Drifting
by DancingWithOceanWaves
Summary: Anger and stress caused by society lead James and Chrissy back to the island. Though they don't know it, this trip may cost them something more precious to them than their lives. Can they endure this storm, or will they crumble? Part two of 'Washed Up'.
1. Laws

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Phillip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

I woke to the scent of Caribbean Sea being carried on the morning breeze. It wafted all about my face, caressing my nose and cheeks, the coolness of it causing goose bumps to rise all over my body. Lazily, I opened my protesting eyes, trying to find the source of the sweet-smelling draft. I tried sitting up, only to fall softly back against the mattress of the canopy bed I laid in. With a sigh, I heaved myself up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. A six month's pregnancy didn't make it easy to do such, of course. So you know I had even more difficulty getting to my feet.

I made it, however, and followed the scent to the open doors of the veranda. Upon making it to the small, stone area, a smile caressed my lips. There was my husband, Admiral James Norrington, sitting in a chair by the small table we had set out on the veranda. The table he sat by was set with a white tablecloth, with a light pink vase resting on the center of it, filled with bright red roses. The tablecloth also merited gleaming silver plates, silverware, and even a silver teapot and two white teacups. A silver platter contained strawberries, peeled bananas, sliced apples, and grapes. Another platter held sliced bread and a small bowl of jam, and another held three different types of sliced meat.

James was seated facing the ocean, his back turned to me as he gazed out at the early morning horizon. With my smile growing a bit larger, I walked silently forward, until I was only inches from my husband. I leaned down as I gently grasped his shoulders in my small hands, and placed a lingering kiss just beneath the left joint of his jaw.

"Good morning." I whispered.

He closed his eyes and inhaled my scent, before taking my hands in his and pulling me around in front of him as gently as he could. Without much difficulty, he eased me down on his lap with a light smile, placing a light kiss on my right temple. "Good morning. How is our little passenger treating you?" he asked with a slightly larger smile, lightly placing his right hand on my swollen belly.

"The baby is treating me well." I replied softly, guiding his hand to an area the baby was lightly striking with small feet. "Not so much kicking this morning, as compared to yesterday morning."

He smiled at the light movement of our child, and leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on my large belly. "Good morning, little one."

"How did you sleep?" I asked, once he'd sat back against his chair, his hand still on my belly.

"I slept well. Did the baby keep you awake for very long?"

I sighed. The baby had been keeping me up late some nights, kicking and punching, causing me to sleep later than usual in the morning. "Not too long. I think you slept a bit over two hours before I finally fell asleep." I turned a bit in his lap, eyeing the table. "Roses?" I smiled.

"Indeed. Fresh from the gardens." he beamed, his eyes glittering.

I sat up, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "James Norrington! You picked flowers from _my _gardens?!" I said with mock anger, lightly swatting a small section of his chest.

"Yes, I did." he chuckled.

With a chuckle of my own, I got up from his lap…with a bit of his assistance. I walked slowly to the cool stone railing of the veranda, my hands resting on my belly as I stared out at the ocean. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the cool Caribbean breeze…a mixture of palm trees, sand, and sea salt. I heard James approach from behind, then felt his hands rest atop mine on my round belly.

"James?"

"Hmm?" he replied, pressing his face against the left curve of my neck.

"I…I'd like to go to the island."

He slowly turned me around, his hands on my shoulders as he looked me seriously in the eyes. "Chrissy, you're six months pregnant!"

"Really?" I chuckled.

His eyes narrowed a bit. "Chrissy…" he warned.

I sighed. "I'm tired of dressing up and going to all of these ridiculous parties and balls! All of the gossip and chatter behind our backs…dull tea parties. Don't you just want to get away, James?" I asked softly, placing my hands on his chest.

He held my gaze with soft, contemplating eyes, and sighed as well. "Yes, it would be nice. But…I don't want to put you," he paused, putting his hands on my swollen belly. "Or the baby, in danger."

I smiled. "We'd just be staying in the shelter for a few days, James! It's not like I'd be getting up before sunrise to check traps! We would take our own food, of course." I found his hands, putting mine atop his. "I think it would be good for the baby, too. I'm not the only one that would benefit from inhaling jungle air, or drinking the fresh water from the water fall."

He looked down at our hands, then sighed again as he looked back up at me. "How long?"

My face lit up. "Two weeks, just you, me, and the baby."

He began moving his thumbs, messaging a small area where the baby kicked just beneath his hands. "What if you go into labor?"

"The baby isn't due for three months, I don't think we'll have that problem."

He stood there for a few moments, studying my belly while slowly moving his hands about it. When his hands came to rest atop mine again, he looked into my eyes. "I'll think about it, and we'll discuss it thoroughly tonight."

I grinned, and whispered, "Thank you."

Slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he bent down and placed a brief kiss on my lips. "I need to go to work. I'll back in time for dinner."

* * *

"Sir, you have a visitor."

I was jarred from my concentration by a slight knock on the door, and the sailor's words. A light sigh escaped my lips, and I carelessly tossed my quill on my desk. Hadn't I told the guards I wanted no visitors today? I was a bit behind in my paperwork, and could get finished _much_ quicker without interruptions.

"Who is it, sailor?"

"Ambassador Swann, Sir."

"Send him in." I ordered.

"Good morning, James." Swann said, shutting the door behind him.

I nodded. "Alexander. What brings you to the fort?"

"Paperwork, James! Don't you remember those papers I had delivered to you, only two days ago?"

I paused, looking down at the papers in front of me in thought. I winced, realizing the papers were the ones Alexander had come for.

"I take it you've not finished filling them out?" he chuckled.

"I've finished maybe half of the forms, Sir. I apologize."

He didn't scold me, as expected, but smiled, as though he new something I wasn't going to tell him. "It's alright, James. There were only two that I needed today. Have you finished those?"

I shuffled through the small stack, finding three finished papers, and only two unfinished. I grabbed the three finished and handed them to him. "Would these be it?"

After examining them for a few moments, a smile tugged at the older man's lips. "Yes, these will do, and the extra. Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be off. A lot of paperwork is waiting for my signature." he chuckled as he stood, making his way to the door. "I also have some house staff in need of guidance in building my schooner. They seemed absolutely clueless when I left!" he laughed, rolling his eyes.

With a chuckle, I turned back to my paperwork. I didn't get far, though, before I stopped to ponder. "Schooner…"

* * *

"Chrissy?" I called, entering the house only minutes before the usual dinner time.

"She's in the dining room, Sir. May I take your hat and coat?" Albert, my butler, asked as he closed the door I'd left open, forgotten in my haste.

"Thank you, Albert." I replied, handing him my hat and coat.

As soon as the articles of clothing were out of my hands, I began walking for the dining room.

"Sir?" he called after me in mid-step.

"Yes, Albert?"

"Your wig, Sir. We both know how Mrs. Norrington feels about it." he chuckled.

With a nod, I removed the offending piece of my uniform and also handed it to Albert, then began, once more, to the dining room. I found my wife there, as Albert had told me, sitting to the right of my place at the head of the table. I smiled. Her hands were resting atop her belly, rubbing slowly up and down while she was lost in her thoughts. It was something that had quickly developed into a habit only months ago, when she'd first learned of her pregnancy. I walked quietly into the room, not saying a word.

She didn't spot me until I was only feet from my chair, and she smiled. "Hello."

"Good evening." I smiled.

"Good. You seem to have lost your wig." she chuckled.

I continued smiling, though I shook my head. "Until I have to go to work again, in about two weeks."

Her brows furrowed. "I'm sorry?" her eyes widened upon realization, and her face glowed. "James, are you saying..?"

"I've decided, Mrs. Norrington, that a trip to the island would do us both good." I formally told her. "But," I started, when she'd started to say something. "You have to follow certain…laws, I'm going to lay down for you."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Yes..?"

"You won't be going anywhere on the island without me. No long walks. I don't want you putting unnecessary strain on yourself, in your delicate condition. We won't be going to the cliff over-looking the entire island, either. Dangerous beasts wander around up there, as we discovered a bit over a year ago."

I watched her ponder a moment, allowing my words to sink in. "I can't go anywhere without you?"

"No." I shook my head. "You can't move quickly, you're basically defenseless."

"Alright." she agreed. "I accept that. But, no walks?"

"None. We can take short strolls. Nothing far away from the shelter." I said strictly, but gently at the same time.

"Agreed." she nodded. "But James, the cliff…" she whined.

"No, Mrs. Norrington." I warned, though I'm certain my eyes showed my amusement.

"But…the view…" she continued.

"No, Darling."

"Fine." she sighed, crossing her arms with a bit of difficulty atop her stomach. "I'll follow your 'laws'. When do we leave?" her voice was curious, almost eager.

"Tomorrow afternoon. I've already rented a boat. A little schooner that can be manned by three men, including myself. I've also gotten most of the supplies together, which is why we won't be leaving until the afternoon. I still have a few things that need to be purchased and loaded." I finished with a smile when she grinned.

She pushed her chair back a bit, and took her time getting to her feet. She looked me over with soft, appreciative eyes before turning as quickly as she could on her heal to walk away.

With furrowed brows, I also stood. "Where are you going?"

She turned and smirked. "To pack."

**HEY!! OVER HERE!! PLEASE READ!! Alright, just as promised, part two of 'Washed Up'! I apologize if any of the characters seemed out of character. For some reason, lately, I haven't been able to get the feel of them. So, if the characters seemed to be acting a bit strange, please let me know! Thank you! Please review!**


	2. Scarred and Bruised

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

**WARNING!! This chapter is a bit violent. **

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

"Chrissy, are you alright?"

I didn't move from my spot, clutching the railing on the port side, upon hearing my husband's voice not far behind me.

"Darling?" he whispered, once he was out of earshot of the crew. "Are you feeling alright? You look a bit…flushed."

I forced my painfully, tightly squeezed shut eyelids to open, and looked up into the concerned, soft green eyes gazing at me. "I'm…the baby…" I said softly, my left hand leaving the railing to rest atop my swollen belly. "Is kicking harder than usual. The waves seem a bit rough on this boat, too…that's all."

"Do we need to go back to Port Royal?" he asked, more urgently. "Do you need a midwife?"

I smiled. "No, James. We're hours away from port, and I'm not having any symptoms pointing to going into labor, if that's what has you worried."

He studied me for a moment, sighing. "I'd feel better if you would at least go lie down."

"Really, James, I'm alright. I think the fresh air will do me good, rather than your cabin."

"You're turning a light shade of green, Chrissy! You need to lie down." he said a bit more forcefully.

"Admiral Norrington," I chuckled, "I'm just a bit seasick! I'll be…"

"Go lie down, Mrs. Norrington. That's an order." he interrupted in a low voice, lightly gripping my upper left arm to walk me to his cabin.

"Excuse me!" I growled, receiving a surprised look and a glare from my husband. I, too, was surprised at my sudden anger. "Do I look like one of your men? You can't just order me around!" I hissed in a dangerously low voice.

His jaw clenched, he leaned down close to my left ear. "The crew are watching, Mrs. Norrington. Remember that I need to keep their respect in order to run a tight ship. I always run a tight ship." he hissed. "Please, come with me to my cabin."

I sighed. The respect of his crew did play a large part in his running a tight ship. If they saw their commander, the _'scourge of piracy'_, be defied by a woman, I doubt the sailing would continue to go so smoothly.

"Alright. Take me to your cabin." I huffed.

Once we began making our way to the cabin, the stares from the crew began to lighten, and soon no one was watching us by the time we reached the cabin door. Or, it could have been that they were receiving death glares from James, and I didn't catch him doing it.

"What is it? What's your problem?" he asked, again in that dangerous voice once the cabin door was closed.

Then, the strangest thing. I felt very weak, and not so angry. "I'm sorry." I whispered.

"Pardon?" he asked, walking to me until I could feel his breath on my face.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you look foolish in front of your crew!" I paused to take a deep breath, calming myself. "You're right. I need to lay down."

He gently gripped my upper arms from behind, leading me to the bed. He helped me sit, then joined me on the bed with furrowed brows. "Are you certain you're alright?"

I nodded. "I don't…I don't know what came over me!" I said softly, my voice cracking. "One moment I was fine, then I felt sick, then angry, and now I'm here, upset in your cabin."

He draped one of his left arm about my waist, then rested his free hand on my stomach, his thumb messaging a small area. "Do you remember what the midwife said? How pregnancy causes you to be a bit…emotional? That's what's wrong with you. Just a bit of mood-swing and seasickness, that's all." he soothed.

"But, your crew…"

"My crew probably thinks I brought you down here…so they couldn't see me do something horrible to you. I've not lost their respect, Darling." he whispered, though I could hear the smile in his voice.

We fell into a comfortable silence, my hands finding his atop my belly, my head beneath his chin. He drew back slightly, though, when he felt the baby kick not far from where our hands were.

"That's a bit hard!" he whispered. "Does it hurt you?"

I nodded. "Only a little. It's not too bad, once you get used to the feeling."

"Here." he started, standing up. "Let me help you lie back. Perhaps if you're completely relaxed, the baby will relax, too."

He easily lifted me and laid me back so that my head was on the pillow, and myself laid comfortably back on the mattress. With a slight groan, I turned myself over on my right side, drawing my legs as close as I could to my body while wrapping my arms around my belly.

"You're sure you don't need a midwife? We could dock at a nearby port." he whispered, stroking my hair back from my face.

"I'm fine, James." I sighed, closing my eyes.

* * *

Hours after I'd convinced my wife to relax, I exited my cabin in search of fresh air. She'd fallen asleep not too long ago, and having finished paperwork and not being tired enough to retire to bed, I decided to give her a bit of time to herself; even if she was asleep.

I'd been keeping a very watchful eye on her lately, not allowing her to be alone for very long at all. Part of it was not wanting to be away from her…to gaze as she glowed anytime her hands rested on her belly and she smiled at it. The other part was ensuring she'd be safe, that she wouldn't fall with the extra weight, or something of that sort.

My kind, tender thoughts were interrupted, however, when I caught one of my crew members lighting a pipe on the deck. What was he thinking?! Every good sailor knows it not wise to have open flames on the deck of a ship!

"You there, Sailor!" I called. "Douse that flame! I'll not have smoking on my ship!"

The sailor looked at me with a glare, and at the same time, an amused expression. He sauntered up to me, took a few puffs from the pipe, and blew the smoke right in my face. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"You two, over there! Seize this man!" I shouted.

The other two sailors eyed me for a moment, before sauntering to me as well. One of them positioned himself behind me, and the other to my right. With the man with the pipe in front of me, I was boxed in against the railing of the starboard side.

"My friend with the pipe tends to get a bit irritated when he's told he can't smoke. He'll get pretty mean, sometimes. I wouldn't be messing with him, _Admiral_." he growled, snarling out the last word.

The one behind me grabbed the back of my coat, then dragged me across the deck and slammed me into the main mast, knocking the fresh, night air from my lungs. Out of instinct, I drew my sword, and pistol, and aimed them at the three men surrounding me.

"Not very wise, Admiral." One of them chuckled darkly, before promptly kneeing me in the groin.

The sudden pain in such an area caused my weapons to fall to the deck, leaving me defenseless. The three mutineers laughed at my display of weakness, before one of them delivered a blow to the left side of my face with his foot.

"Stand back, lads! I've been waiting a long time to get my hands on this one!" Another shouted.

I was yanked up by my coat, slammed against the main mast again, and was kneed multiple times in the stomach. I doubled over, trying to grasp whatever amount of air I could to fill my lungs. My attackers wouldn't have it, however. I found myself being thrown to the deck, and a foot landed harshly against my chest. My mouth flew open in pain, and I continued trying to breathe. I felt another weight atop my stomach, and found that the man that had yanked me by the coat was sitting on me. His large hands found my throat, and began squeezing.

I gripped his wrists, trying to rip his hands away from my throat, but had no such luck. I kicked my legs, I tried thrashing my body, but found myself getting weaker. My vision was growing darker, my head felt lighter, and I could feel my body giving in. But then, the weight was gone.

"Let him breathe, you bastard! We want to have a go at him, too!" One of them shouted.

I rolled on my right side, and gasped as I curled into a ball, sucking in as much air as I could. I nearly gagged, I was taking in such large sums. It didn't last long, though. I was jerked to my feet again, and the clothing covering my upper body was stripped away, until my skin was revealed. Two of the men gripped my upper arms and dragged me back to the railing on the starboard side. My chest was painfully shoved against it, knocking the breath from me again. They pinned me to the railing by my elbows, and I heard someone approach from behind.

"I had a brother once, Admiral." The man with the pipe said, pressing something cold, hard, and sharp between my shoulder blades. "He served under you. Good man, he was. Rarely ever got into trouble. Then one day, he made an insignificant mistake, and you had him whipped. He got sick, and died a few days later. The lashings were your orders, Admiral." he paused, pressing the sharp object harder until it broke the surface of my skin. "You're gonna pay, slowly, and painfully."

He pressed the…dagger, I suppose it was, harder between my shoulder blades, until blood began to trickle from where he was applying the pressure. I hissed and tried to grip the railing, but the two men seizing me by the elbows wouldn't allow it. The dagger was dragged slowly, crookedly down the length of my back, not stopping until it reached the top of my breeches. The matter was made worse when the man began kicking me in the center of my back, causing my strong spine to feel as though it would snap.

"Enough!" The man to my left shouted. "Remember what the captain said! He wants him to be in mostly good shape, so he can torture him for a good while himself!"

"Fine!" he huffed. "Toss him in the brig, we'll…"

The man stopped, abruptly for some reason. A shrill cry answered my curiosity.

"What are you doing, lass?" The man behind me chuckled.

I heard the strangled cry of my wife trying get past, and jerked around to see what was going on.

"Let him go!" she screamed.

"Why would I be wanting to do that, lass?" he cooed, holding her much too low across the chest to keep her from getting to me. He smiled as he pressed his face against her nape, his filthy right hand tracing her jaw.

"Release her!" I snarled, trying to jerk away from the men still pinning me to the railing.

To my horror, that's exactly what he did. He threw her to the deck, causing her to strike her left elbow against the deck while trying to keep from landing on her belly. She cried out in pain when she was grabbed by said elbow, and was pulled roughly to her feet.

"I'll give you two options, Admiral." The man growled, bringing his dagger to the delicate skin of Chrissy's neck. "We can patch up your wounds, but your wife will be thrown into the brig. Or, we can throw you in the brig, wounds untended to, and I'll let your wife stay in there with you. If you choose that option, neither of you will be fed for the rest of the voyage."

"I'll stay in the brig." I snarled in a low voice.

He nodded. "The brig it is, then."

* * *

I watched as they threw James into one of the smallest, darkest cells in the brig, causing him to hit his head on the back wall. I was thrown in next, landing on my left side on top of him.

"Here, you might want these after a few hours." One of the men said, throwing James's upper body clothing at me and hitting me in the face with it.

"James?" I whispered, turning to him as the men slammed the door shut and walked away.

James groaned in response, and tried to help me get off of him. I uneasily managed to push myself onto my bum, with his help, so I could get a better look at him.

His face was purplish, and slightly bloodied. Some of his hair had come loose from the ribbon tying it back, and had gotten stuck in some of the bloodied areas on his face. His chest, and mostly his stomach area, was turning purple, if not a bit blue as well. He was breathing heavily, nearly panting as he tried to roll over on his stomach, to relieve the pain in his back. The dagger wound was becoming swollen, and was still seeping blood, and a bit of pus; especially where the bastard had stomped him in the center of his back.

"Are you alright?" he asked me, his voice hoarse and pain-filled.

"I'm fine, James. I…"

"No, you're not." he interrupted. "You whimpered when he grabbed you by the elbow. Is it broken?" By the end of the sentence, he was out of breath.

"No, it's not broken. It just hurts a bit, that's all." I said softly, trying to keep my voice from cracking as I stroked his hair out of a bloodied area of his face.

"What about the baby?" he whispered.

"The baby is fine, too. I felt the poor thing stirring when you helped me sit up."

He nodded, trying to take deep, even breaths to get his breathing under control.

"Here," I said, grabbing his shirt. "Let's get your shirt on you. Maybe it'll help block out some infection."

He winced as I helped pull him to a sitting position, groaning when I pulled the clothing over his head and shoulders. With just a few quick tugs it was on completely, and I began putting his waistcoat on him as well.

"What do I need this for?" he groaned as I pulled his waistcoat in place.

"To keep you warm tonight. With your wounds, you can get sick easier if you catch the chills."

He seemed to accept that, for he didn't put up a fuss when I began buttoning it. I grabbed his coat as well, but he shook his head and gently pushed my hands down.

"But,"

"No." he interrupted. "You're only in a thin nightgown and a robe. You're going to need that."

"James…" I sighed, as he took the article of clothing from my hands.

He didn't say anything as he pulled the silky, dark brown coat around me, closing it snugly over my belly as well.

"Lie down." he whispered. "We'll stay warmer if we share body heat." he said, lowering himself to the floor on his left side.

I did as I was told, feeling his arms wrap around me once my back was pressed to his front. As we laid together, as usual, I tucked my head beneath his chin, and laced my fingers between his atop my belly. I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head, then felt his legs entangle with mine for extra warmth.

"We'll get out of this." he soothed, as though reading my thoughts.

Though I found it hard, I tried to relax. It was getting colder, and we were snuggling even closer for warmth. The baby even seemed to know what was going on, and didn't kick so much.

**Uh-oh! Bad situation! Well, I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. I didn't want to just rush through it, and write down the first thing that came to mind. I've given this chapter a lot of thought! So, I hope you enjoyed it! Please review! Thanks!**


	3. Ropes

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

How long have we been in the brig? Five days? A week? I lost count days ago, not having food or water to energize myself to be able to think straight. My stomach cramps from hunger, and my throat is dry and scratchy from the lack of water.

But none of it tears at me…like it does to see my wife in her condition.

She just lies on the floor, now, her legs drawn as close as her stomach will allow, her hands absentmindedly stroking the length of her swollen belly. She hasn't spoken in a while, hasn't really moved, with the exception of her hands. She fears greatly for the health of our child.

I moved closer to her, stroking the side of her face that wasn't pressed to the hard floor of our cell. She closed her eyes, a single tear escaping. I wiped it away and pressed a kiss to her brow. She took my hand, guiding it down to her belly.

"The baby barely moves, anymore." she whispered, her voice cracking. "We need to get food…I fear the poor thing is going to starve."

"Shh…shh…" I cooed, scooping her up onto my lap like a child.

She cried softly on my shoulder, keeping her hands on her belly.

"Aw! Isn't that sweet, boys?"

I looked up from my wife to the door of our cell, and glared. The three men that had continuously been torturing us over the course of the week were standing there, drinking in and mocking my interactions with my wife.

"Come along, Admiral. We have a scheduled visit with an old friend of yours. Captain John Davis. Sound familiar?"

I froze. I thought he'd died in a battle, long ago!

"I think he does!" One said to the other. "Look at him! Scared as a mouse cornered by a cat! Ha!"

"Help me drag them out, boys."

In a matter of seconds, my wife was ripped from my arms by one of the men, while the other two twisted my arms painfully behind my back.

"Let her go!" I shouted to the man shoving my wife down the hall, while trying to rip away from the two men that had a hold on my arms.

In response to this, the two men bashed my head against the bars of the cell, before dragging me down the hall. In a daze, I didn't bother to put up a fuss…only allowed myself to be dragged.

The sunlight that shown across the deck was nearly blinding, being the first time I'd seen sunlight in nearly a week. I closed my eyes momentarily, then opened them again in an attempt to allow them to adjust to the blinding sunlight. When my vision did clear, I saw my wife being forced up a gangplank that had been set between our ship and another.

I pressed forward, nearly dragging the two men with me as I climbed the gangplank. Once I was aboard the other ship, I was greeted by taunting and cursing, all of the pirates at once recognizing me. A few of them even delivered blows to my face and chest.

"Stop what you're doing, now!" A familiar voice bellowed.

"Here he is, Davis! The mutt you requested." One of the men sneered, shoving me to the deck.

"Pick him up, lads! I want a good look at him!" The hearty voice called, coming through the crowd of pirates.

Two other pairs of hands grabbed my arms, hauling me to my feet, standing me up next to Chrissy. Then, there he was. Captain John Davis. He was at least half a head taller than me, with light brown hair pulled neatly back in a black ribbon. His dark brown, nearly black eyes drank in the sight of me doubled over in pain, bruised, and a fresh wound on my left temple from being dashed into the cell bars.

He was dressed rather well for a pirate. He wore a fine leather coat and a frilly black cravat, with a black felt tricorn, grey waistcoat, breeches, and black boots. A black leather belt held his fine quality cutlass, and at least two pistols. Being a pirate, you never knew how many weapons he carried on him, hidden in various places of his clothing. If it weren't for his weapons, this man would appear to be a dashing man of society.

But I know otherwise.

"Admiral." he said in his strangely smooth, light voice. He then turned to Chrissy. "A pregnant woman?" he smirked. "Is she yours? It would appear that you've been busy, Admiral. Tell me, which whore house did you steal her from?"

Upon making this statement, the crew snickered and also smirked with their captain.

"Oh wait! Would this happen to be Mrs. Norrington? The jungle woman, is it? She certainly is pretty, Admiral. You did well, I have to admit." he said curtly, tracing Chrissy's neck.

"Don't touch her!" I snarled in a low voice, trying to jerk away from the men that held my arms when she flinched at his touch.

Davis looked at me with amusement, before turning to Chrissy again, roughly seizing her chin to turn her head different angles. "Hmm…you don't seem to be in a demanding position, Admiral." he growled, slapping my wife across the face.

I jerked away from the men again, nearly getting away in my rage. More crew members grabbed at me, however, and I soon had four men holding me just feet from Davis.

"Captain? When do we get our reward?" One of the men from my ship asked.

Davis smirked. "Ahh…about that reward. I'm afraid there isn't one. Since you know of my plans, you are now a threat to me. Gentlemen," he said, turning to three members of his crew. "You know what to do."

The three men that had been aboard my ship were seized, and despite their protests, dragged back onto my ship, then down to the brig. Moments later, the three men from Davis's crew returned quickly, pulling the gangplank up with them.

"Set sail!" Davis bellowed.

In a blur the crew became active, and soon, we were underway. A few yards behind us, my ship exploded in a mass of flames and splinters.

"Now that we've taken care of that little…obstacle, I can turn my full attention to you, now." he smirked, taking in my shocked expression at what he'd just done to my ship and the three men on it.

"I thought you were dead." I growled. "Several people said they saw you, still on your ship, as it was sinking."

"You can't always trust what you hear, Admiral." he smirked, waving a finger in my face. "Now then, where shall we start?" he paused, thinking. "Have you been fed?"

"Not in a week." I replied simply, as though it was no big deal.

He smiled, looking over at Chrissy. "So that means…your baby hasn't been fed either? Alright, I'll make an accord with you. Everyday your on this ship, until we reach our destination, you will be punished with a different form of torture every day. Every time you receive this punishment, your wife will be fed."

"You have an accord." I whispered.

Davis leaned forward, a smirk on his face. "I'm sorry. Come again?"

"You have an accord!" I barked. "But, only if my wife isn't to be harmed, or touched, for that matter, by your crew."

Davis studied me, long and hard. He pursed his lips in thought, then nodded. "Sounds fair enough. Now then, Admiral, get ready for your first form of punishment."

* * *

"You agreed that my wife wasn't to be harmed!" I shouted, jerking at the ropes around my wrists that were keeping me secured to the main mast.

"Yes, Admiral, I did! But when one is told not to harm someone, they think you mean not to hurt physically. You didn't say anything about mental harm!" Davis chuckled, securing her wrists to the railing of the starboard side, with rope, ensuring she wouldn't run to me. "You also only said my crew isn't to touch your wife." he sneered, tracing her collar bone.

She stared at me sadly, her gaze dragging to the ropes securing my wrists, seemingly begging them to break so I could attack Davis with my bare hands. But despite my efforts, the binds didn't break…and all I could do was look at her with apologetic eyes.

"My punishment, Davis?" I growled.

He looked over at me with amusement, before sauntering over to me. He removed his jacket, and handed it to a nearby crewmember, who handed him a piece of half-unwound rope. "Now, Admiral, we usually don't use lashing as punishment on our ship. But like I said, you will be receiving different forms of torture." he held the piece of rope up to my face, touching my left temple and cheek, and whispered so that only I could hear, "You're sure about this? You'll just blindly accept being tortured without knowing which method I'll use, just to feed your wife and child?"

I nodded.

He furrowed his brows. "You're willing to duel with death, to risk your life, for those two lives that are just feet from you?"

Again, I only nodded, not wanting to reveal to him what I would endure for the two lives that meant more to me than my very own life. If I did, he certainly would use the most brutal of his methods…some I wouldn't be able to endure.

Davis just smirked, then stood to his full height. "You had your chance, Admiral." he turned to his crew, and my wife. "Now then. Notice that I'm not using a Cat O' Nine Tails, but a simple piece of unwound rope. If we used that on just his first day of torture, I fear he'd get infection, and then we wouldn't be able to torture him to our contentment." he chuckled. "Besides…I didn't want to get my cloths dirty."

At this comment, the crew laughed, and shouted insults at me as Davis rolled up his sleeves.

From my peripheral vision, I saw Davis walk behind me, and raise his right arm…in his hand, the piece of rope. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, readying myself for the first blow. I heard the rope whistling through the air, then felt the sting of it land between my shoulder blades. My teeth grinded together on the impact, and my eyes flew open in shock at just how hard the man could bring a flimsy piece of rope down on my back. Out of instinct, my arms tried to jerk down to my sides. But, ropes were tied around my wrists, and they were tied high above my head…the rope secured by a nail.

Davis dealt the second blow, this time on the small of my back. I grunted, grinding my teeth, closing my eyes, my arms jerking at the ropes. Another blow landed across my left shoulder, stinging the bare, sensitive skin…my shirt having been removed. I looked over at Chrissy, my face twisted into an expression of pain as another blow landed across the right side of my ribs.

She was crying.

Silent crying…the tears just streaming down her face as she stood and watched, not making a sound. She held back a sob as the rope landed in the center of my back, atop all of the bruises and my swollen cut. This made me flinch worse than the other blows, and I held in a shout. It came out as a muffled whimper, and Davis must have caught it, for he paused before he hit me in the same place. Another muffled cry escaped my lips.

"Go ahead, Admiral. We all want to hear you shout…show us how much pain you're in, and how frustrated you are!" he laughed, hitting me in the same place yet again.

I grunted, this time trying not to hide it…hoping it would be good enough.

"I said cry, Admiral! Scream! Give up your pride like all of us aboard this ship have! Come along, Pirate Hunter! If you don't scream, I may have to drop my end of the bargain, and not feed your wife, allow her to be harmed more. Scream!"

He drew his arm back further, and swung harder, hitting me in the center of my back again. I screamed out in pain, releasing my frustration in it. Another blow came, this one to my upper back and part of the base of my neck, and I yelled in agony at the stinging sensation it brought.

Nine more blows came, and I screamed every time the rope hit me. After those blows, Davis tossed the rope into the ocean surrounding us, and requested that one of the crew cut the rope off of my wrists. Footsteps drew near, and soon I saw a knife being pressed to my bonds. Either the sailor was reckless, or just deliberately wanted to, or both, he allowed his knife to slice not only my bonds but my wrists as well. I felt the warm liquid trailing down my forearms just before I was shoved to the deck.

I landed in a heap, like a rock to the wooden surface, and was met by a foot in the stomach. I grunted in response, and tried to curl up into a ball. It did no good, for I felt kicks to my back as well.

"Stop!" I heard Chrissy shriek, just before feeling her hands on my chest and left shoulder. "Can't you see he's had enough? Leave him alone!"

"She's right, lads." Davis said. "I gave no orders for anymore punishment to be dealt to the Admiral. Like I said, we don't want him too worn out. Off with you now, except a few to drag the Admiral, and his wife, to the brig."

* * *

James groaned, pressing his face harder against my left upper leg. I pressed my back against the left wall of our cell, and shifted my legs, trying to help him get more comfortable. He's laying between my sprawled legs, his broad shoulders between my lower thighs, the back of his head gently touching the side of my belly.

He groaned again, flinging his right arm over my leg, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. With my free hand, I began stroking his temple, and cheek, trying to calm him. My fingers strayed to his neck, accidentally brushing one of the places he'd been whipped. He flinched, and hissed.

"I'm sorry, James. I didn't mean to hurt you." I said softly, directing my hand to his hair. "I'm so, so sorry, for all of this." I whispered, regretfully.

I looked up upon hearing our cell door open, not realizing until then that someone had been standing there. He looked to be a young man, maybe a bit taller than me. His grey eyes were strangely soft, seemingly sad as he gazed at us. His auburn hair was almost completely covered by a faded green bandana, the article of clothing seeming to stick out from the rest of his clothing. His shirt was dyed a deep blue, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his pants were black, tucked into dark brown boots. Yes, the faded green bandana stood out from his dark clothing.

He closed the cell door behind him, and held a tray out in front of him that was covered with a piece of cloth. "I've brought you food." he said quietly, his voice soft and smooth as he set the tray down on the floor by our joined hands. "More than was meant to be brought to you." he whispered, removing the cloth. "There's enough there for both of you, and it's important that you finish it all, so no one will get suspicious." he picked up two of the three white rags, and unfolded them. "These two rags have a creamy medicine on them, for Admiral Norrington's wounds. It'll rub on clear, and look like pus, also so no one will be suspicious. It should sooth the stinging, and help them to heal faster." he finished, setting them back on the tray.

James looked up at the young man with narrowed eyes, trying to look aggressive despite his pain. "Why…why are you…h-helping us?" he said through breaths.

The young man smiled. "I'm not a pirate, sir. I was press ganged into this crew when they raided the port I lived in. I don't like the way they've been treating your wife, sir, or you, and I want to help."

I studied the young man, gazing at his soft eyes. He didn't appear to be lying, and his eyes seemed completely honest.

"I think we can trust him, James." I whispered to my husband, who was still looking suspiciously at the lad.

"Please, sir. Only a few years ago, my mother was pregnant with my little sister, and I know that your baby needs nourishment…much more nourishment than it has been getting. If you want your baby to be born healthy, you have to accept my help." he pointed out.

James furrowed his brows, studying the young man. "How old are you, lad? You can't be more than sixteen?"

"I'm fifteen, sir. I was kidnapped by one of the crew members when I was but twelve. I was brought on to be a cabin boy. I know how to get around the crew, and the captain. I know where the delicacies of food are kept on this ship, and I can sneak you supplies when needed." he said eagerly.

James peered up at me through his bruised, bloodshot right eye. "He's just a lad, Dear." he whispered.

"But he wants to help. He's our only chance if we want our child to survive." I reminded him, almost desperately.

When James closed his eyes, I knew he was sorting through his options…which were few. He sighed, then opened his eyes again. "Alright, lad. We'll accept your help. Just keep in mind, you can't make it obvious. Don't act more anxious or excited than you usually do, and don't let anyone see you sneaking things. It'll be the death of the four of us if you mess things up." he said, trying to make it sound like a command, but it came out in a pained whisper.

The lad nodded, a grin pulling at his lips. "Yes, sir. I'll not mess this up! You'll be impressed, Admiral."

With a nod at both of us, he got up, and began to turn.

"Wait!" I called softly, catching his hand. "Do you have a name?"

"My name is Oliver, miss." he said with a smile.

"Oliver." I repeated. "Thank you, Oliver. You've no idea how much we appreciate this." I whispered sincerely, smiling genuinely for the first time in days.

Oliver bowed. "I'll not disappoint you Mrs. Norrington, Admiral Norrington. I must be off now, they'll be wondering what I'm doing down here."

He kissed the top of my hand, and bowed to James, who nodded in return. With one last smile, he turned and locked the cell door behind him, before putting on a realistic looking sneer as he went topside.

**Yippie for Oliver! By the way, what do you think of young Oliver? Please review! Thanks!**


	4. So Sorry

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

_Alright, that should be enough._ I thought to myself, sneaking one last piece of bread onto the tray, before covering it with a cloth. I moved to the mugs of water next, and grabbed three and set them on the tray as well before sneaking off into the galley. Saying a quick thank you to the Lord that the cook was taking a break to eat, I moved further into the room, and set the tray down next to the pot of stew that was cooking. I filled two bowls as full as I could, and slipped them under the cloth as well.

I smirked to myself. The cook had left the pot of hot water going as well, which meant I could get the Norrington's hot tea, just as planned. Looking around to make sure I wasn't being watched, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, burlap pouch containing herbs, and sprinkled a bit in two of the three mugs. I added the hot water before grabbing the strainer near the captain's tea pot, and poured one of the mugs over the third mug, and repeated the process a few times with the two, before moving on to the next mug. Now that the tea was finished, I could put them under the cloth as well, and get the meal to them without anyone knowing what I'd been doing.

"What are we going to do with them?"

The sudden, gruff voice caught me off guard, and I grabbed the tray and ducked behind the open galley door.

"That's up to the captain." Another voice answered.

"Hang them! I think we should hang them." The first answered, sounding much too excited about killing the two people I was growing to admire more and more.

"Nay, that would be too fast. Captain said he wants them to suffer…long, and slow. He wouldn't be satisfied with a hanging."

The footsteps were getting closer. They certainly would be able to see me behind the door if they walked completely in the galley, and turned at just the right angle.

"I think he's gonna kill the woman, first. Then he'll take his time with the Admiral. They won't die for a few more days, though. Captain said he wants to get rid of them on that island we found a few weeks ago."

The footsteps stopped, and fingers wrapped around the edge of the door, not far from me. I bit my lip, and didn't breathe, trying not to be noticed.

"Hold on, mate. That's the captain's food. Ours is near the table."

"What is for breakfast, anyway?"

"Mostly toast, and fruit, I believe."

"Not worth it. The apple I ate yesterday was rotten. Might as well go back on deck."

The footsteps started to get fainter.

"What does the captain plan on doing with the woman, anyway? Not much we can do with a pregnant woman."

"I think he said something about a cliff, or waterfall, or something of that sort. Something Norrington can watch and scream about before we finish him off, nice and slow."

By the time the conversation was over, the footsteps had disappeared. I let out the breath I'd been holding, and waited a few moments before dashing out of the galley. When I reached the deck, I tried to slow my pace, trying not to be so noticeable.

"Admiral! Mrs. Norrington!" I called as softly as I could, trying to wake them if they were still asleep.

They were wide awake, however, and looked to me quickly as I opened their cell door.

"Oliver, is everything alright?" Mrs. Norrington asked.

I paused, thinking for a moment if I should tell them what I'd heard. I agreed not to, thinking they wouldn't eat if I told them before serving them. It could wait until a different time.

I took a deep breath, calming myself as I squat and set the tray on the floor. "Yes, Mrs. Norrington. I just wanted to make sure you two were awake." I said quietly, smiling, trying to brighten the mood. "I managed to get you some of the captain's rations, without anyone noticing." I said, uncovering the food. "It's a type of vegetable soup, or something of the sort. It's very good for you."

"Oranges?" she questioned, picking up one of the two.

I nodded. "Yes, Ma'm. Citrus is known to protect one from Scurvy, and infection."

"I never told you that?" Admiral Norrington questioned his wife, peering up at her through his bruised, bloodshot eyes.

She shook her head, a smile on her face as she stroked his hair. "No, you haven't."

"I brought you some herbal tea as well, also healthy. It should help the baby."

"Herbal tea." she mused, picking up one of the mugs as she smiled sweetly at her husband.

He smiled as well, and, faintly, chuckled.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Am I missing something?"

Mrs. Norrington shook her head. "No, Oliver. It's a long story…one we'll tell you some other time."

"If you make it to some other time." I mumbled.

"I'm sorry?" Mrs. Norrington questioned.

I shook my head. "Oh, nothing. I was just talking to myself." I paused. "I brought you plenty of bread as well, to try to fill you up a bit."

I suddenly felt a soft hand on my shoulder, and realized it was Mrs. Norrington's. "Thank you, Oliver." she whispered. "You've no idea how much we appreciate this. You're risking your life, you know."

I looked down, at loss for words, for a moment. It isn't often that I'm complemented. "Th-thank you, Mrs. Norrington. I believe you two are very much worth it. I'll find a way out for you three." I whispered. "Now then, you really must eat. The captain will be awake in not too long, and he mustn't see how much food I've been bringing you."

Mrs. Norrington nodded in understanding, and glanced down at her husband, who was mostly in the same position as he was last night. "Would you help the Admiral sit up, please?"

I nodded, and stood to get closer to the Admiral.

"That won't be necessary, Oliver." he grunted, trying to sit up himself.

Mrs. Norrington rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to a word he says." she whispered. "It's just his stubborn pride."

I chuckled as the Admiral glared at his wife, before I helped him reach a sitting position. He groaned in pain, wincing as he leaned against the cell wall.

"Am I hurting you, Sir?"

He shook his head. "No, you're fine. It's my back…I'm…it's a bit tender, is all."

"Here, drink." Mrs. Norrington ordered softly, holding one of the mugs of tea gently to his lips.

I stood quietly as I watched the two interact, finding nothing but love and tenderness when one helped or touched the other. I was a bit surprised at the affection they showed each other while I stood there, as well. Could it be the situation they're in? Or, are they like this all the time?

"Here, miss. I'll help him eat, so you can feed yourself." I said quietly, grabbing one of the bowls of soup.

"Thank you, Oliver. It's appreciated." she replied quietly.

"I'm…I'm not helpless." The Admiral tried to object.

"Yes, you've said that before." Mrs. Norrington retorted.

I held in a chuckle when the Admiral sighed, and accepted my help. One spoonful at a time, I fed him quietly, unless a question was asked. We actually got through the soup very quickly…quicker than I thought we would, anyway, and I was able to feed him one of the oranges as well.

"Do you know where we're headed?" The Admiral asked. "How long it will take us to get there?"

"I'm not certain where it is, Sir. But I know it is a little island, off to the side and away from any trade routes. The strangest thing…there was a small shelter there, made from bamboo and had a roof made of palm leaves…"

"James!" Mrs. Norrington interrupted. "That's our island! The island we stayed on! Is the shelter still in good condition?" she asked excitedly.

"Well…not as good condition as I made it sound. The roof caved in on the place, and one of the walls collapsed." I paused. "Wait, this is the island you lived on?"

"Yes." she nodded with furrowed brows.

I smiled. "This could be our chance! You know the island well, you could find a way for us to escape!"

Her eyes brightened, and she was about to reply, when an angered voice filled the air.

"Where's my cabin boy?!"

Captain Davis's voice…and he sounded angry.

"Quick!" I whispered. "Drink down the rest of the tea, and put the orange peelings and the bowls on the tray! I need to cover it all!"

They did as instructed, gulping the tea and cleaning their small mess. I had all of it covered up on the tray by the time Davis was in front of the cell.

"What are you doing down here, boy?!" he shouted. "Why haven't you brought my breakfast?!"

"I was just getting their empty plates, and mugs, Sir." I answered shakily.

"Their?" he snarled. "Aren't you supposed to be only feeding the lady?" he growled.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I was told to feed the prisoners. I thought that meant both of them."

"Do you want to know what I think?" he snarled, walking closer to me, and towering over my crouched form. He kicked the tray, revealing the bowls and orange peelings. "I think you've been helping them!"

All at once, I felt a boot to my chest, and I flew back against the back wall of the cell. I gasped, feeling the air involuntarily leaving my lungs.

"Stop!" I heard Mrs. Norrington shout. "I talked him into it!"

"Did you now?!" he yelled at her. "Gents, take her topside! She'll not be wanting to miss this!"

* * *

I winced as another blow connected with Oliver's stomach. They've been beating the poor lad for a good ten minutes, and they show no signs of relenting. I want to shout…to scream out and stop the madness! It wouldn't do any good. I'd only be laughed at, and the beating would get worse…or they'd come after James.

"That's enough."

I looked up in surprise, partial relief filling me when Davis gave the order for them to stop. Oliver was shoved at my feet, a groan escaping his lips as his body hit the hard surface of the deck. I clutched James's hand at the sight of him, my eyes stinging because this angel had been so brutally treated.

I heard Davis give orders to some of the crew. Though he had shouted, it sounded like a distant mumble to me…I was too busy staring and worrying over Oliver. My concentration was broken, however, when my husband was jerked away from me…away from my grasp.

"What are you doing?!" I yelled. "You should be punishing me! Not him! I'm the one that talked Oliver into helping us…James had nothing to do with it!"

Davis turned to me, and laughed. "But I am punishing you, Darling! I'm punishing you by punishing the ones you obviously care about."

I turned my gaze helplessly to James, as two of the crew secured his arms, while two more prepared to release their fury on him.

* * *

Oliver was the last one to be pushed into our little cell. Quite roughly, I might add. Since Davis had given strict orders for the crew not to harm James and I as they put us in our cell, they took it all out on the lad. I doubt he felt anything, though, for he was unconscious when James's beating was over with. So now I sit, the only one physically unscathed.

I looked down as James made feeble attempts to get closer to me, having to move slowly because of his fresh wounds. My eyes began to burn…realizing just how bad James's health has become.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered, the tears streaming down my face at my words.

James didn't reply…only laid his head on my lap. He slowly moved his right hand across the tops of my legs, and gently grasped my hand up from the floor and brought it to his lips. The only movement that didn't seem to pain him was his lips kissing my knuckles.

"This is all my fault." I breathed shakily.

"D-don't…" he had to stop after that one word, just to take in a shaky breath. "Don't blame…y-yourself."

I moved my hand to his hair, and was horrified to find blood. Upon further examination, I found that a small section of hair near his forehead had been ripped by the roots, which had loosened some of the skin.

"Oh, James." I said sympathetically, in a whisper.

He didn't hear me…he'd blacked out.

* * *

The pain…I'd never felt such pain in my life. It felt as though every fiber of my body was throbbing with it. It didn't hurt near as much, though, as knowing the fact that I'd failed…and caused Admiral Norrington pain in my failure.

I groaned as the tears came…I'd not cried since I was twelve, when the pirates had kidnapped me. I blamed it on the pain. If I wasn't hurting, I wouldn't look like such a wimpy little boy.

As the tears began to flow, I felt a soft hand on my cheek, wiping away the tears. Mrs. Norrington's hand. It felt so good to be touched by a woman, to feel something caring, and motherly, after not feeling it after so long. I allowed myself to be weak. I allowed myself to carelessly, silently, cry.

"I'm so sorry, Oliver." she whispered.

Was she crying, as well? "It's not your fault." I gasped. "I'm…I'm such a failure! This is all my fault!" I sobbed.

"Shh…shh." she cooed, stroking my tear-stained cheeks. "You're not a failure, and this isn't you're fault."

"But it is! I'm the one that caused the Admiral to be beaten…I caused you pain because he feels it."

"Oliver, please. You've got to stop blaming yourself…it'll only make you feel worse." she said quietly.

"I deserve it." I whispered.

She gently removed my bandana, and stroked my sweaty auburn hair.

"Shouldn't you be tending to the Admiral?"

"He's fallen asleep. You need to do that, as well."

I didn't say anything as she began to stroke my cheeks again, and began to hum. I felt my eyes drooping, and I found her gentle caresses soothing.

"Why are you doing this? I've caused your husband pain…You should hate me."

She shook her head. "I don't hate you. I'm helping you because you need my help…and you tried to help the two people I love more than my life. You've needed someone to help you for three years, Oliver."

"But…"

"Shh. I don't blame you for James's pain. I think Davis had planned to do this to James in the first place."

I felt myself relax as some of the guilt went away. I actually started to feel just how tired I was, and began to give in to the lazy feeling.

"What is your last name, Oliver?" she asked me quietly, continuing to stroke my cheeks.

"I…I'm not certain. I haven't thought, or heard my last name in such a long time. I can't think very straight, no matter how hard I try. I'm so tired…"

"I understand." she whispered. "Go to sleep now, Oliver."

She quietly withdrew her hands, and moved away. I watched her crawl back over to the Admiral, and press a kiss to his temple, just before exhaustion and sleep overcame my senses, and forced me into a dreamless sleep.

**Poor Oliver, and Chrissy and James! This chapter pretty much speaks for itself, so I really don't have much to say. Some positivity will be coming up, I promise! Please review! Thanks!**


	5. Way Too Close

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

"Breakfast."

The gruff voice, and the sound of a cell door opening are sounds I'd grown accustom to waking up to in the morning. Breakfast usually wasn't different, either…unless the captain was in a good mood. This was rare, now that he realized if he inflicted anymore harm on the Admiral, he'd most likely die before we got to the island…which was only a day away.

The punishment the Admiral received only two days ago wasn't so brutal, but was indeed harsh. He was tied to the main mast for an entire day, deprived of food and drink, and had a bit of ocean water splashed on his wounds. Mrs. Norrington and I were kept in the brig, and heard the poor man scream when the salt water was applied. When he was brought back to us, he couldn't speak because he was so parched, and could barely move from the lack of energy he would've received from food.

When the Admiral didn't respond to any of the taunting, or any other punishments after being tied to the mast, Davis had the ship's doctor, who is in fact a pirate, examine him. This is when the doctor told Davis if he wanted the Admiral to live until we got to the island, he wouldn't be able to inflict anymore physical punishment on him. Though the Admiral's health is grave, it was a relief to both me and Mrs. Norrington that the Admiral at least wouldn't be able to be physically hurt anymore, while aboard this ship.

"I said, breakfast!" The man said louder, upon receiving no response.

I continued pretending to be asleep, not wanting to even look at the rubbish they served to us as food. I heard Mrs. Norrington thank the man, who pretty much growled in reply.

"Is the lad alright? He's not moving this morning. Captain doesn't want to kill the Cabin Boy, just yet."

"I believe he's fine, Sir. He stayed up, helping me clean the Admiral's wounds." she mumbled.

"Hmph." he said, walking away.

"Please, Sir." she begged.

At this, I cracked my eyes open just a tad, still not wanting to be seen awake. Mrs. Norrington had crawled over to the cell door, which the man was holding closed.

"Please, can we have a small scrap of clothing, anything, to cover my husband's back? I fear infection will capture him before we reach the island. He…" she broke off here, lowering her voice. "He may die before we get there, if he gets an infection."

The pirate considered her for a moment, before looking over at the sleeping Admiral. A poor sight he was, too. Dry blood covered his face, back and chest, and there were even a few blotches on his limbs. He merited two black eyes, and his bottom lip was split near the center. What was the most concerning, though, was his back, which was covered in open flesh wounds, and welts from being whipped by rope and lashed with an actual whip.

"Alright." The man whispered, taking off his dark brown leathery vest. "This should block out some of the infection, but just this alone isn't going to block it out completely. I'll fetch you a fresh bucket of water, and rags. I'm sure the captain won't mind, if he wants his hostage to live long enough for him to finish him off." he added grimly.

"Thank you, Sir." she said softly, gently taking the vest from the man through the bars.

When the man walked away, she crawled back over to her husband, her belly having grown large and making it difficult for her to walk. I watched in curiosity as she began slipping the vest on him, and he woke while she was in the process. With her help, the Admiral was able to sit up long enough for the vest to be put on, before he leaned back against the cell wall.

"I'm not going to die." he whispered, pulling her sideways between his sprawled legs.

"You were awake the whole time, weren't you? You listened to your wife beg like a street rat." she whispered, her voice cracking.

"The pain wakes me early." he said, also whispering, as he nuzzled her jaw weakly.

I watched the two share a kiss…long, tender, but weak as well. They broke apart for a few moments, seemingly catching their breaths, then went right back at it. He cupped her face gently with his rough, shaking hands, and she rubbed his upper chest, though trying not to touch a bruised area at the same time. When they broke apart again, Mrs. Norrington was crying. The Admiral did his best to calm her, by whispering things I couldn't hear from my position, and rubbing her back in slow, long strokes. When this didn't work, he placed lingering kisses all along her face, jaw, and neck.

She cried harder, but quietly, and stopped his treatments to her so she could do the same for him. She kissed all over his face and neck, and even some of the bruised and tender areas, crying all the while she did this for him.

I think she could feel that he was dying.

It finally got to the point that her breathing became labored, she was crying so hard, and had to stop kissing him so she could try to regain her breath. So, the Admiral just held her close as she tucked her head beneath his chin, and he whispered softly to her, trying to calm her. By the time she had calmed, the pirate that had given her his vest was back with a bucket of water. Mrs. Norrington slowly crawled out of the Admiral's lap, and helped the man flip him over on his stomach so they could clean the wounds on his back, once they'd removed the vest, of course.

"Why are you helping us?" Mrs. Norrington asked the man quietly.

"I'm not. Captain wants me to make sure Norrington stays alive." he growled.

They said nothing after that.

* * *

"Land ho!"

I opened my eyes slowly, wincing at the pain in my head, and everywhere else, as I tried to figure out if I'd heard a shout or not.

"Did you hear something?" I whispered to my wife.

"Someone shouted 'land ho'." she mumbled.

Oliver sat up when she'd said these words, his hopes confirmed. "Land!" he exclaimed. "This is our chance!"

"No, it isn't." I snapped, the pain having gotten to me long ago, causing my voice to be sharper than intended. "Do you think we're just going to run, lad? I can hardly move, and my wife can just barely walk. Do you even have a plan?"

He shook his head, and sank back against the floor, his ambition dashed. "I'm afraid I do have some bad news, though." he whispered.

I furrowed my brows.

He slowly dragged his gaze over to us. "That day, when I came running in here with your food, and I told you nothing was wrong…I was lying. I'd overheard some of the crew when I was readying to leave the galley. They'd overheard the captain talking to his first mate. They said, when we reach the island, they're going to finish you off…starting with Mrs. Norrington."

I felt fear, and rage, fill my body. "Why didn't you…"

"I didn't want to tell you! I thought if I told you, you wouldn't eat…and I must stress that a pregnant woman must eat, because she's feeding her baby, not just herself." he paused. "They aren't certain how Davis is going to do it. He said something about a waterfall, or a cliff, of some sort."

I was about to reply, when five men walked up and filed into our little cell. Two grabbed Oliver by the arms, and escorted him roughly out of the cell. One stepped forward and helped Chrissy to her feet, and made off with her as well. Two men had to help me up, allowing me to put my arms about their shoulders for support, and walked me up to the deck as well.

Once there, I found that Chrissy, Oliver, and Davis were already in a long boat. They only lacked me and a few of the crew.

* * *

"Is it as you remember, Mrs. Norrington?" Davis asked, mockingly.

She sneered at him, and directed her attention back to the shore of the island, where I'd washed up only a bit over a year ago. She seemed to be scanning the area, looking for anything new, or different. I did the same as well, as I draped a comforting arm about her waist. She leaned into me, but kept her flicking eyes on the island. I could feel her relief, and my own, upon finding that nothing but the damage to the shelter looked different. It seemed as though the brutal, vicious, and rage-filled pirates didn't even want to tamper with the natural beauty of the island.

After what seemed like days, we reached the shore of the island. The several boat-loads of pirates began withdrawing from the longboats, and with a bit of help from some of said pirates, we were standing on the shores, too.

As I stood on the island, my arms supporting my wife and myself leaning against a palm tree to even be able to stand, memories sprung to the front of my mind…and my heart sank thinking of the situation we're in now, and how careless and free we were then. I was a bit saddened by the condition of the shelter, and knew my wife felt the same as me, as well. The once, sturdy structure that sheltered us from the weather, and other such dangers, was gone. The supplies that it held, such as firewood, canvas for bedding and such, had probably been destroyed.

"My home." she whispered. "I lived there for ten years, James. Now it's gone."

"Yes, 'tis a sad sight, isn't it?" Davis asked, again in a mocking tone. "I can only visualize the memories you made in that place." he smirked.

I was too tired, and in too much pain, to respond or even care what was said about us anymore. Chrissy must've felt the same, for she didn't respond either.

"Well then. Gents…lady." he winked at Chrissy on the last word. "Let's get a fire going! Let's celebrate! We've got a long, and eventful day planned out, tomorrow."

I sneered at him, at the way he'd said that sentence, and the way he'd eyed my wife and I as he'd said it.

"What are you doing, just standing there?!" Davis bellowed at a few men standing off to the side. "I want these prisoners tied separately, each to their own palm tree!"

I sighed as a man gently led Chrissy away from me, and helped her sit on the sand in the shade of one of the palm trees, so another could secure her wrists and then tie them close to the base of the tree. Another two men came my way.

"Pardon me, Sirs." I said weakly. "Can I please be tied to that tree, over there, close to my wife? If I'm going to die tomorrow, I want to spend as much time with her as I can. If you'd please…" It all came out in a weak whisper.

The two men studied me for a moment, the glanced at each other, before nodding and helping me to the tree closest to my dearest. The same as Chrissy, I was helped into a sitting position, and my wrists were secured.

When they got to Oliver, however, he decided he wasn't going to have _any_ part in allowing anyone to tie him up. He held his wrists out, like he was going to let the man secure them. When the man was close enough, and at just the right angle, Oliver drew back, and hit him full force in the nose. He spun around on his heel, and dashed away from the hands trying to grab him, and ducked into the cover of the jungle. Some of the men drew their cutlasses, preparing to go in after him. Others simply drew their pistols, some firing, some preparing to chase after him as well.

"Let him go!" Davis shouted, stopping them all in their tracks. "I doubt there's much food here…and there's most likely some large predators. He won't live long out there." he lowered his gaze to us. "Besides, I've got what I want, right here."

* * *

The sun had set hours ago, making the heat more bearable. The pirates had a small fire going, and were all gathered around it. Most of them seemed drunk. I began thinking on this, thinking of a possible escape, when I felt pain shoot between my legs and all around in my large belly. I cringed, gritting my teeth as I closed my eyes tightly.

"Are you alright?" I heard my husband ask me. "What is it?"

"M-my stomach…it…it just…" I held in a cry as another wave of pain washed over the same areas.

"Your stomach?" he sounded urgent…if not a bit panicked. "Is the baby coming?"

I shook my head. "No…but very, and I mean _very_, soon. Possibly within the next few hours, or tomorrow." I winced again, trying to reach out and stroke my belly, but the ropes about my wrists wouldn't allow it. I began rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the pain.

"R-remember what the midwife told you…a-about…breathing." he stammered.

"What…do you think…I'm doing…now?!" I snapped, taking small, quick breaths as I continued to rock back and forth. A small, sharp cry escaped my lips, capturing the attention of Davis and a few of the crew that weren't drunk.

"What's going on?" Davis asked in a near shout, running over to us.

"She may be going into labor! Let me near her!" I heard my husband yell.

To my surprise, Davis allowed James to be released. I felt his large hands untying my wrists, and soon I was able to rub my swollen belly, and lean back comfortably so I could breath easier. I could feel James stroking my face with one hand, and his other supporting my back.

"James, I think it's alright, now." I whispered, feeling the pain lighten.

"What did she say?" Came the uncertain voice of Davis.

"The pain has gone down." he replied softly. "She could have the baby anytime, now. Don't tie her up again, please." he begged.

I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

"I want two men standing guard, at all times." he bellowed. "I don't want them alone at all."

As Davis turned away, I peered up at my husband, and whispered so that only he could hear, "Oliver made his move, now we need to make ours. We need to plan an escape."

**Well, the chapter speaks for itself. So, I don't have much to say, except, ALRIGHT OLVER!! I'll try to have the next chapter out soon! Please review! Thanks!**


	6. A Very Long Fall

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

"I said get up!"

I was startled awake by the loud voice, and instantly sat up. I found James right beside me, his wrists tied with rope, Davis holding the excess like it was a leash.

"Good morning." he said pleasantly, seemingly mocking me with the two words.

"What's going on?" I whispered to my husband.

"What they've been waiting for." he said, dejectedly.

Those five words. In those five words, I found out that my husband had given up…he knew he was about to die. He knew he would have to watch me die before him…and I would be taking part of him with me.

His will to live.

With all of his might, Davis jerked James to his feet with the rope, causing James to groan in pain as the ropes gnawed at his skin. With a motion of his hand, Davis had one of the crew help me up.

"Alright, then, lads. Let's go!" Davis shouted happily, dragging my husband to the front of the group, and away from me. I was kept at the back of the line.

* * *

I studied my surroundings as we walked through the brush. Everything looked the same, as though I'd never left the island. The brush had grown a bit more, making it a bit more difficult than usual to walk. Though you could barely tell, we were on a path…a path I feared we would take ever since Oliver told us of the captain's plans on the ship.

The very trail we walked lead to a cliff.

Well, not exactly a cliff. A steep hill, is a better way to describe it. Very steep, with about an eighty-five degree slope, and nearly fifty feet from the top to the base. In our conditions, we weren't likely to survive that kind of fall.

I came to a realization. I was taking my soon-death way too calmly. I briefly looked down at my swollen belly, then up at my husband, at the head of the group with Davis. I suddenly grew very angry…and determined. I was not going to die, and neither was my husband. Davis would pay, even if I had to go at him with nothing but my hands.

* * *

"This is it!" Davis yelled, his crew cheering once we reached the spot.

I saw James turn, and gaze at me with saddened eyes.

"Bring her up here! We don't want the dear Admiral to miss this!" Davis mocked.

I felt someone gently take hold of my upper right arm, so I began walking forward without putting up a fuss.

"Any last words, Mrs. Norrington?"

I looked Davis right in the eyes, and glared. He smirked. "Well? Any last words?"

I took a deep breath. "BASTARD!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, and lunged at him.

I ripped the rope from his hands, and wrapped my long, slender fingers about his neck, and squeezed as hard as I could. The captain stumbled back, gagging. My eyes lit up at his shocked expression, and I could feel him weakening. As he fell to his knees, I felt multiple hands grab me, and soon, I felt my body flying through the air.

* * *

I swear my heart stopped as I watched my wife fly over the edge of the cliff, hitting the ground hard as she began to roll the rest of the way down. Davis was still on the ground, his breath having not come back to him yet. With most of the crew concerned with their captain, I decided I wouldn't have any other chances.

I grabbed the excess rope and jumped over the edge of the cliff, landing heavily on my feet on the steep slope. I ran as best as I could, trying not fall forward. I was running a speed I never thought possible, my wife the only thing in my sight, the sound I could hear. She was shouting, calling for me, hugging her belly with her arms and legs, trying to protect our child. I leapt forward, narrowly catching her in my arms. She pressed her large belly to my stomach, and I tried to curl around it, and wrap my arms and legs about my wife as well, trying desperately to protect the two things most precious to me.

"Don't move. Don't even breathe." I whispered in her ear, once we'd reached the bottom.

I felt her go completely limp in my arms as she took a deep breath, not daring to move anymore than that. I did the same, and waited.

"Well?!" I heard Davis bellow. "Are my hostages alive, or not?"

"I…I don't think they made it, Sir." One of the crew spoke up, uncertainly as he gazed down at us.

"Get down there and scout them out!" he screamed, shoving the man over the side of the cliff by the neck.

The man landed with a sickening crack on his head, and was dead by the time he came to a stop just feet away from us.

"Anyone else?!" he paused. "Get back to the shore!"

We laid there, twenty minutes after they left. I didn't want to let Chrissy out of my arms, and by the way her hands were clasping my upper arms, I don't think she wanted to let go of me, either.

"A-are you…are you alright?" I whispered shakily, stroking the back of her head.

She nodded wordlessly, and tucked her head beneath my chin.

"We're free." I whispered into her hair. "We're free from him, at last. We can hide, and nurse each other back to health."

"Yes." she breathed.

"Come along. You know this place better than I do. You know where we can hide." I said gently, sitting up.

"Need a hand?"

My head snapped in the direction of the voice, and I found Oliver standing not too far away. He studied us uncertainly, and then offered a small smile.

"Yes, I could use some help." I whispered.

Together, we helped Chrissy get to her feet. Once she was standing steadily, I draped my right arm about her waist to help support her.

"I've already found a place we can hide…a good one, at that. It's quite a distance from here." he said as he walked away, and started examining the dead pirate.

He pulled a pistol from within the man's cloth vest, and found a knife shoved in his boot. He also found a leathery bag containing gunpowder and additional shots…even a flask of water hidden beneath the vest. When he finished inspecting for anything else of use, he took the man's vest and faded bandana.

"We'll need all of the cloth we can get, for bandages." he explained, at Chrissy's confused expression. "Let's go, shall we?"

* * *

"Are we nearly there, Oliver?" James asked wearily.

"Just about, Sir. I told you, it's a distance away from the shore, farther than the pirates would think to look. They won't find us here, and you'll see why." he bragged, proudly.

"Where are we, darling?" I whispered, peering up at him from within his arms.

"I've no idea." he replied quietly. "You never brought me this far."

I raised my head a bit, trying to get a better look. "James, we're completely on the other side of the island! Look, there's the shore, several yards away! I know where we're going now!" I whispered giddily.

"Are we far from it?"

I shook my head. "Not very far at all. Are you sure you don't want to put me down? Aren't you tired?"

He smiled. "Painfully tired. No, I'm not going to put you down, you've used to much strength already."

"Here we are, Sir!" Oliver said proudly.

James furrowed his brows. "It…it looks like the side of a sheer cliff, Oliver."

"Ah, precisely! That's why I've brought you here! You see these trees, and these vines, crawling up the side of said sheer cliff?"

"What are you getting at?" he asked irritably.

"Look." he grinned.

Oliver, with a bit of difficulty, parted some of the vines and trees, revealing a small opening in the cliff.

James furrowed his brows, and walked forward a few steps. "A cave?"

Oliver's grin widened. "Yes!"

"But what about bats? They're disease infested, you know?" he said worriedly.

"There aren't any bats, Sir. Because of the vines and trees, they've been kept out. There are a few bugs here and there, but otherwise, it's safe. Come along, now." he said stepping to the side while still holding the small trees and vines, allowing us passage.

* * *

"Where did you get all of this?" James asked, confusion filling his voice as he eyed all of the supplies Oliver had in the long, tunnel-like cave.

"I did a bit of sneaking, and pick-pocketing, while the drunken crew and captain were asleep."

I smiled. The lad really did know how to get around, and get what was needed. Several muskets were leaned up against the wall, and a small pile of pistols and daggers weren't far from them. In a different pile, there were blankets and a few nice coats.

"When did you have time to get all of this?" James wondered aloud.

"Like I said, I stole some of it from the crew last night. I got up before the sun this morning, too, so I could make more than just one trip, and got everything else we would need. We even have rum, and fresh water!" he said excitedly. "I even picked some fruit!"

James looked at me, and shook his head. I only smiled. "Perhaps you should hire him as a spy for the Royal Navy." I joked.

I began to chuckle, and Oliver joined me, when I felt that pain between my legs and in my belly again. It was much worse this time, and hit me at full force. I hissed, and allowed a cry to escape my lips.

"Darling, are you alright?" James asked, the panic in his voice again.

I rubbed my belly a few times, and rocked back and forth, but the pain increased. "The baby's coming!" I breathed.

In a heartbeat, Oliver was kneeling at my left side, and James in front of me.

"Are you certain?" Yes, he was sounding very panicked.

"Yes, I'm certain!" I snapped.

"Get one of those blankets, and put it under her head, like a pillow." James ordered.

I heard running footsteps, and then felt something soft being placed beneath my head. I then felt Oliver at my side again, his hand gripping mine in silent support. I squeezed his hand both in appreciation and pain, just as James gently parted my legs, pushing my nightgown and robe back just a little bit.

"Start pushing, Mrs. Norrington." Oliver coached.

"How do you…" James started.

"I'll tell you how I know all of this later, Admiral. Right now, I need you to focus. Do you see anything yet?" he asked sternly.

"No, not yet." There was a quiver in his voice.

I let out a sharp cry of pain, and squeezed Oliver's hand tighter.

"Breathe, Mrs. Norrington. That's it, now push. Good, push again. Do you see anything, Admiral?"

"Yes, I…I think it's the top of its head." Now there was a little more panic, and possibly some fear in James's voice.

I let out a cry, and felt tears streaming down my face at the pain, and continued trying to breathe.

"Keep pushing, Mrs. Norrington. Breathe, now push again. That's it." he soothed. "What can you see now, Admiral?"

"The shoulders are out!"

"Good! You're almost done, Mrs. Norrington. Just a few more pushes."

I screamed at the top of my lungs, probably breaking Oliver's hand as I gave one last hard push.

"He's out!" I heard James exclaim, before I passed out.

* * *

"She's passed out, Admiral." I said quietly, releasing Mrs. Norrington's hand. "Admiral?"

He was just sitting there, staring at the little thing. Something was wrong. There were no cries coming from the baby…no movement. The Admiral stared at the baby in disbelief, his eyes becoming glassy.

"Sir?" I asked, a bit of dread in my voice.

"He…he isn't breathing." he said, before going into panic. "Why isn't he breathing?!"

I watched helplessly as he gently set the baby on the ground, and began to lightly push on his chest with one finger. There was no reaction. The Admiral was becoming frantic, and he covered the baby's lips with his mouth, and blew a shallow breath. Still, no reaction.

The Admiral sat back on his haunches, a sob escaping his lips. I crawled quickly over to the baby, and did the same actions. The baby didn't move. I felt for a pulse, and sat back on my haunches as well.

"I'm sorry, Sir. Look there," I said, pointing to the baby's head. "There's a small dent. I think that's what did it."

"My son…" he sobbed. "I would have had a son! Those bastards murdered him!"

"I'll bury him, Sir." I offered quietly.

He shook his head. "No…I'll take care of it. Stay with Mrs. Norrington."

I turned away sadly, focusing on the pained, unconscious face of Mrs. Norrington. As the Admiral walked away, his feet dragging, I took Mrs. Norrington's hand in mine again, and placed a light kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, before my own tears began streaming down my face.

**HEY!! DING DING DING DING!! PLEASE READ!! Please, please don't hate me! It upset me when I wrote this, but it is necessary for later chapters. I had to do it. Things will get better, I promise! Please don't hate me, please! I'll have the next chapter out as soon as I can! Please review! Thanks!**


	7. A Background to Forget

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

I woke with a soreness in my body, and a light weight on my left cheek. I opened my eyes, and found James laying beside me, his hand on my cheek, his eyes red and puffy. I furrowed my brows, and pondered what could possibly be wrong.

"What is it?" I asked worriedly.

He didn't answer, he only stared as his eyes grew glassy.

It hit me, then. "James, where's the baby?" I became panicked when he tried to speak, but couldn't seem to. "James, where's my baby?!"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry…he didn't make it." he whispered.

I sat up as quickly as my body would allow, and instantly began crying. "No…no, James! Where is my baby?!"

He sat up as well, trying with all of his might to not let his tears pour over. "When you were pushed over the cliff…he hit his head…and it…it…I'm so sorry." he whispered, taking me into his arms as I began to sob.

"Why is this happening?! This…is…a-a…m-m…" I screamed through my sobs, my own words not making sense to me.

"Shh…shh…" James soothed, gently easing both of us back down to a laying position. "I tried everything to get him breathing…and none of it worked!" he cried, his sobs finally escaping.

For an entire hour, we said nothing. We just held each other and sobbed…until I cried myself to sleep.

* * *

When I woke again, the cave was a bit brighter. A blanket had been pulled to my shoulders, and James was no longer beside me. I sat up and looked around, and found Oliver leaning against the cave wall in front of me.

"How long have I been asleep, Oliver?" I asked, my voice sounding broken.

He looked up in surprise, as though he'd been asleep. "Since yesterday, Mrs. Norrington. You passed out shortly after you had the baby, and stayed passed out for hours. When James told you…what had happened, it was already night. You cried yourself to sleep, and didn't wake until just now."

"Where is James?"

"He's just down that passageway, just there. We realized there are numerous tunnels in here, and one opens up a bit to reveal the shore. Just take that path, and you'll find him."

"Thank you, Oliver." I whispered, slowly forcing myself to stand.

I walked slowly down the path Oliver had pointed to, and automatically found the tunnels he'd been talking about. To my right, there were several tunnels in the wall…tunnels we hadn't been able to see because it was so dark in the cave yesterday. They had ridged openings, like water had seeped in and formed them. The tunnel I walked in to find James was the only one with light.

I began to wonder if I'd gone down the correct tunnel, it was taking me so long to get to the end. I could see a tall, slim figure not far from me, however, and pressed on. There was a large, jaggedly rounded opening in the left wall of the end of the tunnel, with what looked like sharp, spiked teeth coming up from the bottom of it, to about the waist of an average man. Standing behind it, looking out at the ocean with his arms crossed, was James. I silently made my behind him, and put my hands on his shoulders. He remained silent and still, before putting his hands atop mine.

"Why are you all the way back here?" I asked him curiously.

He hung his head. "To keep from going after Davis." he whispered. When I didn't respond, he turned slowly, and cupped my face in his shaking hands. "He murdered my son." he choked out. "Our son." his eyes grew dark, and hard. "I wanted to go after him so badly…after you cried yourself to sleep. I almost did, but something told me to stay…when I gazed down at your sleeping form. I laid down and held you for the rest of the night. I've not slept since the night before last."

Gently, I placed my hand on the center of James's chest, meaning to comfort him. He took my hand and kissed the top, then drew me into a tender embrace. We didn't speak for a good five minutes…we didn't need words to let each other know how we felt.

"What did he look like?" I suddenly wondered aloud.

He gently pulled away, and smiled. "He looked just like you. Blond hair, your nose, your hands…his eyebrows were even shaped the same as yours. But, he had my green eyes." he finished in a whisper, his smile changing to a frown. "He was beautiful."

I understood why James had to fight down his rage, to keep from going and killing Davis like a barbarian. I can imagine how he must have felt, holding the beautiful little thing…knowing who was responsible for its death.

"What did you do with him?" I whispered, pulling him into my embrace.

He sighed. "I buried him. I didn't know what else to do."

I nodded against his shoulder. "So…what now?"

"Well…I guess we can try to make the cave as comfortable as we can. I've a feeling we'll be here for a while. Oliver seems to have gathered several blankets…we can make one comfortably padded bed for ourselves, and one for him." he suggested. "I think we should all sleep in the same part of the cave…safety is in numbers."

I nodded. "We need to put the food and drink in a safe place, as well…and the weapons." I paused. "So, just a clean up day, then?"

He nodded.

"I have some weight to lose, too." I whispered, looking down at my slightly smaller, empty belly, as the tears began to flow.

I didn't put up a fuss when I was pulled into another embrace. I wanted to be held, to be comforted, after what had happened. I wanted to get my mind off of it, though, too. I lifted my head from beneath his chin, and cupped his left cheek to bring his head down to mine. His lips captured mine gently, temporarily making some of my pain melt away. I pulled him as close to me as my belly would allow, and made an attempt to deepen the kiss. I gently coaxed his mouth open with my tongue, and allowed it to explore his mouth as his did mine. His mouth felt so warm and soft, and comforting…that a small moan escaped my throat.

This was the first real intimate moment we'd been able to have in days…We were finally alone, and able to express our feelings fully without worrying if one of us was going to be tortured in the next moment. We didn't have to worry about Oliver walking in on us…he probably knew what was going on back here. We felt freedom, and relief, though we were both still in a reasonable amount of pain. At that moment, though, it was forgotten. He was all I was thinking about.

At my small moan, James moaned. It was a wonderful sound…one both of us had been longing to hear from each other. His hands began a full exploration of my body, slowly gliding across the fabric of my clothing, looking for exposed skin. I heard a long, low groan…and didn't realize it had come from my throat until James's hands began moving faster all over my body. It took me a few moments to figure out that my robe had been discarded, and I was standing in naught but my thin, silky nightgown…The nightgown that was very thin, with a very low neckline, and very narrow straps. I may as well have been standing there with nothing on because of the thinness of the thing.

"James?" I mumbled as his lips left mine, and began exploring my neck and lower.

"Hmm?" he sort of groaned, his lips having found the area just bellow my collar bone.

"We need to stop…before we get carried away." I breathed.

He stood up straight, furrowing his brows, though his hands never left my body.

"My body isn't ready for this, yet. I'm still weak from childbirth, and my large belly wouldn't allow us to get very far. Besides," I whispered, an obnoxious smile pulling at the corners of my lips. "What if Oliver walked down here? We should at least warn him before we engage into something like that."

He coughed, his face turning red. "I'm sorry." he whispered.

"I look forward to it." I whispered as seductively as I could. My obnoxious smile melted away. How could I be flirting with my husband at a time like this? My baby was born dead! I shouldn't be flirting.

"What is it?" James whispered, now serious at my sudden somberness.

"I'm flirting with you…as though I never gave birth to child that died in my womb. I shouldn't be doing this as though nothing happened." I said shamefully.

I was surprised when James shook his head. "No…you're mourning. People have different ways of doing that. I'd rather you be doing this than searching for a bottle of rum to drown your sorrows in, like I did. That was one of the most foolish things I've ever done. Don't feel ashamed." he soothed, stroking my cheeks.

I gave him a weak smile. "I think we should get back to the main part of the cave. Oliver may be wondering if we got lost."

He smiled as well. "Yes, we probably should be getting back. We've been back here for quite some time." he whispered. He bent over and picked up my robe, then gently slid it over my arms and onto my shoulders, before gently securing it at the front.

"What are you doing?!" I nearly squealed when he lifted me, bridal-style.

"I don't want you using much energy. You need to heal." he chuckled.

* * *

"Water, Mrs. Norrington, Admiral?"

"Hmm? Oh. Thank you, Oliver." Chrissy said quietly, snapping out of her seemingly trance-like state.

We'd been moving things for hours, now. We decided to put the beds farther back in the cave, where we wouldn't be found quickly should someone find a way in to our hideout. We were able to use two blankets for the bottom of our bed, and one for an actual blanket. The same went for Oliver's. We got them as comfortable as we could. Weapons were also put nearby, within quick reach. There were two daggers under each bed; one on each side, and a pistol near our heads. Amusingly enough, Oliver had gathered four coats, so we were able to use three as pillows. For light, we were able to build a small fire. Because of all the tunnels, we didn't have to worry about smoke filling the cave, and we were able to keep warm in the dark, damp place.

"James!"

I was startled by the loud tone and light swat I received from my wife, and looked up with a start.

"Oliver offered you water, James." she told me softly.

I looked over at Oliver, my mind taking its time to register his hand holding out an empty rum bottle filled with water. "Oh. I apologize. Thank you, Oliver." I said, taking the bottle. "My mind is…elsewhere." I whispered, trying to push away the memory of my child…just laying, unmoving, on the ground after I'd tried to get him to breathe.

"It's alright, Sir. I think we all feel that way." he said solemnly.

I furrowed my brows at his attitude, at how only an hour ago, he seemed alright. "Are you alright, Oliver?" I asked him quietly.

"Your…baby, Sir…and these pirates. It just brought back some unwanted memories." he answered softly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Chrissy asked, scooting closer to him.

"I don't want to waste your time."

Chrissy shook her head. "You'll not be wasting our time. If it'll help you feel alright, it's completely worth it." she assured him, taking on a motherly role.

"Alright." he whispered, shifting his weight so that his legs were drawn up a bit, and his elbows were resting on his knees. "You remember, I told you my mother gave birth to my sister?"

We both nodded.

"Well, she was born prematurely, and was sickly from then on. She only lived a month after her birth." he paused, searching for words. "That's why I'm feeling so much for you two…I know what it feels like to lose something so little, and dear. The other thing is the pirates. My mother was murdered by them when they raided the port."

"What of your father?" Chrissy asked gently, rubbing his back when he began to look pale.

He laughed bitterly. "He left us shortly before my sister was born. He was alcoholic, and his marriage to my mother was arranged, because their families were so poor. I guess they thought they could share the money they got. He never cared for us…our home was just a place he could stay. My sister and I were just accidents from when he was drunk. That's what told me before he stormed out of the place."

"That's horrible!" Came the whispered reply of my wife. "How could anyone be so cruel?"

"Where were you born, Oliver?" I asked, trying to lighten the tension a bit.

He dragged his gaze up to me. His were dull, and his face was very, very somber as he replied, "Tortuga."

Both Chrissy and I froze. How could such a kind, decent young man like this be from Tortuga?!

"Oliver, how do you know so much about childbirth?" Again, I was trying to lighten the tension.

"After my father left, my mother…my…" he shook his head.

"It's alright, Oliver. You can tell us." Chrissy encouraged.

He sighed, then nodded. "My mother began working in a brothel…and eventually became a whore to support my sister and I. She really didn't want to, but she couldn't really do anything else!" he cried. "It didn't take long before she was pregnant again. When she gave birth, I pressed my ear to the door, even looked through the keyhole. I was just a little thing…I was curious. One of her so-called friends took that baby in, so it wouldn't be so difficult for my mother to support me.

"A few years later, the pirates came. You know the rest. I became a cabin boy. Now here I am. I don't know how to read…how to write…I only know how to use a sword, and how to defend myself if need be. I know what you're thinking. How am I so decent, when I came from such a wicked place? My mother came from decent parents…she was decent. She taught me how to be decent, and said it was the only thing we had to be proud of…my knowing how to be a gentleman, even with all of the things going on around me."

When he finished, he became very still, and very quiet. He drew his legs close to his body, and hid his head in his arms. We could tell he was trying to hide tears. My wife drew even closer to him, and gently pulled him into and embrace. He didn't object…he allowed her to hold him…even tucked his head beneath her chin.

"You're a good lad, Oliver." she whispered. "You've been very strong."

"You remind me so much of her." he barely managed to say through his tears. "Loving, and kind…even in the situations on the ship…even with all of the chaos that was all around you."

I realized it then, why he'd wanted so badly to help us…why he'd grown so close to us so fast. He was trying to prevent things from happening to us that had happened to him, and his family. With this realization, I crawled over to my now crying wife, and the lad, and put an arm around each of them.

If anyone tried to harm this lad, they'd have to go through me. He became part of my family right then.

**Yay! Alright, this chapter pretty much speaks for itself, so I don't really have anything to say. Well, I guess it's safe to say that Oliver is like their son, now. Yippie! Please review! Thanks!**


	8. Exposed

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

"How are we going to hunt with these?"

Oliver wrinkled his nose at the poison-tipped darts laying atop a cloth on the floor, then looked at my wife like she was mad, even though he'd been living with us in the cave for…however long we'd been living in the cave. I looked over at Chrissy upon hearing her chuckle, and smiled. She looked great. She'd managed to lose a lot of weight from her pregnancy, and was starting look a bit closer to her normal size.

"With this." she smiled, holding up a piece of hollowed out bamboo that was about half a foot long. "See? Just put the dart in, like this." she demonstrated. "Then blow. The poison on the tip will first, stun the animal, then kill. Be careful of the tip, Oliver. The smallest mistake with these could be fatal." she warned.

Oliver studied the darts, then the bamboo stick, and smiled. "So…when are we going to use them?"

Chrissy chuckled. "I want you to practice, first. We'll use non-poisoned darts for that."

Oliver gave her a small, fake pout. "Non-poison?"

"Yes." she responded playfully. "No use wasting poison on a fake target, right? Come along, now. I want to see how well you can use these."

Grabbing a few of the un-poisoned darts, and two of the bamboo sticks, Chrissy led Oliver to our makeshift target; which was the bloodied vest the pirate from the ship had given me. Using a dagger, we'd carved a circular target that looked more fit for shooting arrows at.

"I want to see you blow the darts at the vest, and I want you to get as close to the center as you can." Chrissy instructed. After she took a few steps back from him, she nodded. "Go on."

Oliver inserted the dart in the bamboo like he'd been shown, and lifted it to his mouth. After a few seconds of taking aim, he drew in quite a large breath, and blew as hard as he could. Surprisingly, the dart came very close to the center, nearly hitting the dot in the middle. A grin on his face, Oliver turned to Chrissy, who wore an impressed expression.

"Do it again, three more times." she smirked.

Oliver did as he was told, and, surprisingly, got closer and closer to the mark each time. With a smirk of his own, Oliver retrieved the darts and walked to Chrissy, and handed them to her. "Alright, let's see you give it a go."

Chrissy only nodded, and took the darts. In four fluent movements, Chrissy had blown the darts one right after the other, each hitting the mark right on the spot. Oliver's smirk was gone when she turned around to face him. "I had a lot of time on my hands when I lived here, Oliver. Don't get discouraged." she soothed. "And, keep it in mind that I never handled the poison-tipped darts that fast."

He smiled. "Yes, Ma'm." he paused for a moment. "So, why didn't you just use these, instead of the traps when you lived here?" he asked curiously.

She smiled a small smile as her eyes clouded over with memory. "I had other things to take care of. Gather firewood, keep a fire going, repair damage if any to the shelter and gather fruit and fresh water. I didn't have time to hunt."

Oliver furrowed his brows. "I thought you said the Admiral, your brother and a friend helped you around the shelter?"

Her small smile widened, even if just by a tad. "James, Theodore, and Andrew didn't wash up on my shore until ten years after I'd been stranded here. Even with all of my chores done, I spent most of the time getting to know my husband." she whispered, sending a smile my way.

Oliver studied the soft look I sent my wife, and the smile she sent me, and sighed as he rolled his eyes. "So, when are we going to hunt? How far into the jungle are we going?" he asked eagerly.

"We're not going into the jungle." Chrissy replied. "We're going down to the shore…the one you can see from that opening in one of the tunnels."

"Why? I thought you said…"

"We are going hunting," she interrupted. "But, you're not ready for the poison-tipped arrows. We're going to experiment with the non-poison arrows on fish. I want to see how well you do with small, moving targets. If you do alright, we'll have fish for dinner. If not…I'll have to take over so we can eat something other than fruit."

Oliver replied to this with a small glare, while my wife continued to stare at me, her smile having faded. "Go on down to the shore, Oliver. We'll be there in a moment." she ordered softly.

Nodding, Oliver gathered the non-poison darts and hollowed-out pieces of bamboo, and left us alone quietly. Even several minutes after Oliver had left, Chrissy continued to stand there unmoving, as though she was trying to sort out a puzzle.

"A-…Are you alright?" she whispered, taking slow, cautious steps toward me.

I furrowed my brows. "Do I appear troubled?"

"Well…you've been a bit quiet, today."

I sighed as she knelt down in front of me. "No more than you have been…for a while now."

"It's still troubling you, isn't it?" she whispered, taking a seat between my sprawled legs as she cupped my jaw in her small hands. "Isn't it?" she pressed.

"Yes." I breathed, pressing my forehead to hers.

"James, it's been over a month! It's been over two months. The pirates are gone, and won't be back for a few more weeks." she said softly, stroking my face.

We'd come to learn that Captain Davis was using our island as a stash. He would go off every few weeks to raid, and plunder, then would come hide his 'treasures' a few weeks later. Even though it had been over two months, sometimes I found myself waiting, wondering if I should go after Davis. I would usually decide against it when I looked over at my wife, and newly adopted son.

"We need to move on." she whispered. "It's so hard for me to say that, please try to understand. We can't keep living in the past…it will drag us down."

"I know, sweetheart. We've just been through so much…"

"Yes. You've had so many heartbreaks, James. So have I. But, we've put those things behind us…and look where it's gotten us! If I hadn't put anything behind me, you would have found a completely different person on this island." she paused, offering me a small, comforting smile. "You wouldn't have liked me very much if I hadn't put things behind me. I'd have been very quiet, and somber. No, that wouldn't have done well at all." she whispered, smiling as she ran her slim left index finger down the length of my nose.

I smiled and pressed my face to the curve of her neck, feeling a bit of the tension lift. She was right…I wanted to put it all behind me, but this was so much more difficult than all of the other things. Like Jack sparrow, I'd become obsessed with wanting to make sure the pirate, Davis, that did such a thing to my wife and baby would get what he deserved. Though, this time a hanging wouldn't satisfy me. It scared me, the things I wanted to do to that man.

"James?"

I slowly opened my eyes, but kept my face pressed to her neck. I wanted to stay here, to just not move…to keep her body pressed so tightly to mine.

"James, did you hear me? We need to go down to the shore, Oliver's waiting for us."

* * *

Hand-in-hand, we walked at a leisurely pace to the shore. For at least the fifth time, I glanced over at my wife from the corner of my eye. She was back into breeches and a dark green cloth shirt…all of which had been swiped by Oliver from the man Davis had killed when he thought we were dead. Chrissy accepted them gladly, ready to get out of her nightgown and robe, but wouldn't wear them until she'd washed them ten times, at least, in the ocean and with the strong alcohol in some of our bottles of rum, knowing that said articles of clothing had been on a dead man for several weeks.

Her hair had grown out since we'd been here for so long, and she hadn't bothered to cut it like she had when she lived on the small island. Use to, her hair barely came past her shoulders. Now, the golden waves came nearly half-way down her back, drawn away from her face by a small strip of leather. And, as I'd said earlier, she'd lost almost all of the weight from her pregnancy. She had her curves and slim body back, and was happy for the most part.

There were still those nights when she would press herself tightly against me and cry softly against my chest. Some of those nights a rebellious tear or two would escape my eyes, but for the most part, I forced the tears to stay within. I would tell myself I was being weak, and my weakness was not to be tolerated. I had to be strong for my wife.

Upon thinking on this, I glanced at Chrissy again. Her deep blue eyes seemed to sparkle, and all at once, a grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. With furrowed brows, I followed her gaze. Oliver was up to his thighs in the clear, sparkling Caribbean waters, standing like a statue. He'd abandoned the bamboo and darts on the shore, and had removed his shirt and was holding it under the water, waiting for something to swim into his trap. He suddenly jerked the blue cloth up, but the unexpected added weight of the water jerked him back down, and he fell face-first into the water.

A small giggle escaped Chrissy's lips, and she shook her head with a smile. "What happened to fishing with darts?"

Oliver glared at her through his soaked auburn hair, of which had fallen down in his eyes. "I would point right at the fish, and still miss."

Chrissy shook her head…again. "You're not supposed to aim right _at_ the fish, Oliver. You aim just below, because the water plays tricks of where the fish really is."

Still with a glare, Oliver replied, "Why couldn't you have told me that before?"

She smiled innocently. "I wanted you to figure it out. See, look." she said, picking up a dart and a piece of bamboo. "Aim a bit below the fish."

After carefully loading one of the sharp darts, Chrissy waded out in the water up to her knees, then bent over until she was barely above the surface of the water. Waiting until the opportune moment, which was a few minutes, she blew the dart with a large breath into the water. A moment later, she pulled out a nicely sized fish that had been run through with her dart.

"See?" she said. "Easy, once you know where to aim."

Oliver's glare lightened, but didn't fade as he stared back and forth between Chrissy and the fish.

* * *

With Chrissy's and Oliver's fishing combined, once Oliver got the hang of it, we'd gotten to eat a rather nice fish dinner. I'd eaten my fair share…I even ate both Chrissy's and Oliver's leftovers so none of the food would be wasted. My mind never concentrated on the food, though. I just ate while my mind wandered, not even knowing how much fish, rum, and water I put in my stomach.

Even with the large, filling meal, I remained restless. I looked down at my wife, her body pressed against mine as she slept uneasily. She'd cried herself to sleep again, though this time, not so hard as the other times. With a sigh, I stroked her back and kissed the top of her head before I quietly got up to go for a little walk.

* * *

I finally made it to the end of the tunnel, where it opens up and allows a view of the ocean. I stopped and stood in front of the small, yet at the same time large opening, and lightly placed my hands on the rocks that seemed to grow from the bottom of the opening to about my hips.

"I wondered when you would catch up." I said quietly to the figure still hidden in the dark.

"You knew I was following you?" Chrissy asked, finally stepping into the moonlight.

She was still in her shirt and breeches, and she wore her now long hair down. Her hair draped over her shoulders and back, along with one of our blankets, which she held tightly about her body.

"I heard you sit up when I was walking to the tunnel." I informed her, again in a quiet tone as I draped my left arm about her waist.

"Can't sleep?" she asked.

I hesitated before answering, the ocean distracting me. "No, I can't. I don't know why, either. Something just…doesn't feel right. I have this feeling…" I grew silent, not knowing what else to say.

"Perhaps something is going on in Port Royal?" she suggested.

I allowed a sigh to pass my lips. "I don't know anymore. It seems like everything has been turned upside down." I whispered, looking down at my bare feet.

She quietly stepped out in front of me, her golden hair instantly seeming to shimmer in the moonlight. I gazed at her without a thought, her bewitching blue eyes having caused my mind to go blank. It amazed me, that though we've been married for a bit over a year, she still had such an effect on my body.

Silently stepping forward, her hands on my chest, her lips claimed mine in a gentle, yet assuring kiss. "It'll be alright." she whispered.

I didn't answer, I didn't want to. I just wanted to stare into her eyes, which quite literally seemed to be glowing blue. I found that I could lose myself in those glowing pools, and be thoughtless as though in a trance. I leaned down and caught her upper lip, my tongue mercilessly demanding entrance. She quickly obliged, her own tongue rubbing against mine as I explored her mouth.

Without hesitation, I allowed a moan to escape from deep within my throat. In all the time we'd been on the island, I'd not had very many intimate moments with my wife; other than holding her as we tried to fall asleep. The contact felt wonderful, and I felt a small amount of my control escape my grasp.

"James…" she moaned, her small hands clutching at my shoulders.

Her hands traveled down my back, grasping the hem of my shirt. I drew my head back quietly, surprised at how quick a pace we were going. She stopped, but didn't remove her hands. Her glowing eyes held my gaze, her innocent look slowly fading as she pressed her face to my shoulder.

"What is it?" When she didn't respond, I slowly stepped back and tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at me. "Are you alright?"

"I…want to…try again." she whispered, her eyes pleading.

"Darling…" I said softly, sympathetically.

"I knew you would say no, or you would just hesitate. I thought, maybe, if I could make you lose your control, I could try to get pregnant without letting you know that's what I wanted." she said, ashamed. "I know you're still hurting, James. I am too. If we could just try again…"

I shook my head. "You knew I would know something was wrong. That's why you gave up and told me?"

She nodded. "I thought, if we could just try again. If something went wrong again, like the last time, we wouldn't have to try anymore. When we get back to Port Royal, we could just adopt Oliver, and he would be your heir because I can't provide you one, obviously." she whispered, her tears finally escaping down her cheeks.

"Darling, our child was taken from us! That wasn't your fault! If he had lived, we would have had a beautiful son. You can provide for me, that is obvious. Don't put this all on yourself." I soothed, wiping her tears away with my thumbs.

"I'm sorry…I knew you would see right through me, yet I tried anyway." she hung her head in shame.

"Come here." I ordered softly, taking her into my arms.

Her tears continued to fall, and possibly intensified as I held her. I whispered soft comforts to her, and kissed her, trying to make her see I wasn't angry. As she calmed, I stepped away. She gazed at me with furrowed brows, and I found all I could do was swallow…hard. I quietly took the blanket from her, and spread it across the damp, cold cave floor, then turned to her as I removed my shirt and carelessly tossed it aside.

She walked slowly to me, studying me fondly. Lifting a shaking hand, she traced a long, jagged scar that went all the way across my chest and over to the right section of my ribcage…one that I'd received from Davis not too long ago. Her hand then slid back up to rest on the center of my chest, atop a few smaller scars. Gently, I seized her hand and pressed her palm to my mouth, placing lingering kisses on it before moving it to rest on my cheek.

A small, almost playful smile tugged at one corner of her mouth as she leaned up and captured my bottom lip. I held her tightly against me as I deepened the kiss, using a bit more force than usual. Very slowly, she began pushing backwards until my back bumped against the cave wall. Her hands roamed my body, forcing me to have no control over the moans that escaped my throat.

When she drew back, I nearly smiled. Just like our wedding night, she'd pushed me into a dark corner, causing me to only be able to make out her outline. Her hands seemed to work agonizingly slow as she removed her clothing, as though she got enjoyment out of watching me fidget both impatiently and excitedly, even though all I could see was her outline because we were in such a dark corner.

She finally stepped forward, her clothing in a pile behind her. I found my eyes traveling her body hungrily, trying to see her skin instead of just her outline. It was simply too dark, though. I didn't realize she'd removed my breeches until her bare body pressed against mine, and all I could feel was skin. I moaned loudly and my body began to shake at the contact. Oh, how I wish I could see in the dark…

Her small, soft hands rubbed my chest up and down as she placed light kisses along my neck and jaw. The moment she began nibbling my right ear, I felt my control shatter. My left hand traveled up the back of her neck and pressed her head closer as I claimed her lips, while my right hand sprawled across the small of her back to keep her pressed tightly against me.

Her moan was like music as I allowed my hands to travel her smooth, soft skin, while I kissed and nipped at her neck. I felt her body shake as I began taking my kisses lower, first to her shoulders then her collar bone. She drew back quickly and took my hand. As though reading her mind, I nodded, and she began to lead me away from the dark corner and towards the blanket, towards the moonlight, where both of us would be exposed to one another.

**HEY!! OVER HERE!! PLEASE READ!! I just want to warn you that school has started, and updates may not be as quick as I'd like for them to be. I've wanted to update this chapter for several nights, but couldn't because of homework and band practice. So, there you have it. Now then, how did you like the chapter? Please let me know! Please review! Thanks!**


	9. Tunnels

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

"Good morning."

I opened my eyes upon hearing the angelic voice, wondering if there was, indeed, an angel laying beside me. There was Chrissy, looking brighter than ever. Her golden hair and sea-colored eyes glowed softly, along with her soft smile and skin. She held the dark blue blanket bashfully over her chest with her right hand as she gazed at me, her left sneaking across the blanket to rub my chest.

"You look like an angel." I whispered sincerely, returning her soft smile.

"So do you." she whispered back, her eyes sweeping over my body before she reached down and covered me to the waist with the blanket.

"You're much more beautiful, I assure you." I chuckled, reaching out to stroke her face as her hand came to rest atop my ribs.

Her smile widening, she moved closer until her body was pressed completely against mine. I allowed a low groan to escape from deep within my throat, and wrapped my arms around her as I pulled the blanket to our shoulders. My body felt wonderful with hers pressed to mine, and I couldn't help but allow my hand to travel slowly up and down her back.

I stopped, however, and furrowed my brows. I sat up, keeping the blanket pulled to my waist as I rolled Chrissy over onto her stomach. She held her arms close to her upper body, keeping herself hidden as I slowly pushed the blanket to the small of her back.

"What is it?" she asked in concern at my seriousness.

We'd had so little food throughout the two months or more that we'd been here. Last night was like a feast, yes, but we were still very thin. Chrissy, however, seemed to be in the worst condition. Her back bone seemed to stand out more than usual beneath her skin, and I could count several of her ribs just from the back.

"You're skin and bones." I whispered, lightly running my right index finger down her bony back.

"I know." she replied as though it wasn't a problem. "But, you know there's hardly a scrap of skin on you that isn't scarred?" she paused for a moment. "I can count more ribs than I should be able to on you as well."

I looked down at my ribs, realizing she was right. I'd hardly taken notice of my own body. It did bother me a bit that I could count a few of my ribs, but it didn't disturb me as much as Chrissy's condition. Not really knowing what to say, I placed my hand at the base of her neck and splayed my fingers between her shoulder blades, then slowly stroked her spine.

"Lay with me." she whispered.

I quietly eased myself beside her and pulled the blanket to our shoulders, then turned her over on her side so she would be facing me as I drew her close. I felt her smile against my chest as she tucked her head beneath my chin and snuggled comfortably against me.

"Mr. Norrington." she whispered, her smile widening against my chest.

I drew back a bit, raising my eyebrows at her. "_Mr._ Norrington? I haven't been called that since I was just a lad."

"That's who you are when you enter our bedroom, or whenever you're spending time with your family. Your admiral mask, or society mask, which ever you prefer to call it, fades away, and you're just Mr. Norrington. Not the '_Scourge of Piracy'_, not the firm, aggressive admiral, just Mr. Norrington; loving, kind and gentle husband, and wonderful father to our adopted son."

She paused there and widened her smile, then gently pulled one of my hands to rest on her stomach atop the blanket. "I think you're soon to be a father of another child, too." she whispered, putting her hands back on my chest.

I smiled gently, and my already soft eyes grew softer. "You think we've been successful?"

She nodded. "Yes, I think I'm pregnant. We'll find out for sure in a few weeks."

I gently stroked her face, then closed the very small distance between our faces and captured her upper lip in a long, tender kiss. When I pulled back, I couldn't help but gaze at her face before pressing mine to the base of her neck, relishing at how soft and warm her skin felt.

A clap of thunder sounded softly in the distance, and I lifted my head quietly to look out the small opening. The sky was completely overcast, the clouds gray and heavy with rain. Another clap of thunder sounded, causing Chrissy to raise her head and look out the opening as well.

"It's going to rain…long and heavy." she mumbled, then laid her head back down and relaxed against me.

I allowed a sigh to pass my lips before pulling the blanket to our necks, a cold breeze causing me to shiver as I wrapped my arms around Chrissy to keep her warm.

"James?"

"Hmm?"

"Didn't we fall asleep with one blanket?" she asked in confusion.

I furrowed my brows. "Yes."

"But, we're laying atop a blanket, and there's another wrapped around us. That's two blankets." she said slowly.

I pulled back a little to look at her face, realization hitting me. "You don't think..?"

"Yes, it's possible. Oliver could have heard us, thinking someone was hurt. He could have walked right in on us, then came back to cover us up once we were asleep." she whispered in horror.

"Darling, I think we need to get dressed."

* * *

When we made it to the main part of the cave, we found that Oliver was already up and about. He was in the process of putting his shirt on when he noticed us, and quickly pulled it over his chest and down, the piece of cloth falling just a bit past his hips.

"I apologize. I didn't realize you two were up yet." he rushed.

I looked up at James, then squeezed his hand reassuringly as I led him to the fire. "That's alright, Oliver. Have you begun cooking breakfast yet?"

"No, Ma'm. I've been watching the sky…it looks as though there's going to be a bad storm." he said quietly, glancing at us rapidly from the corner of his eye as he prepared breakfast.

"Are you alright, Oliver?" I asked when he kept dropping things.

"I'm fine." he rushed. "I don't like thunder, or storms in general. They make me skittish."

In another attempt to get breakfast started, Oliver tried to build a spit over the fire. His hands were simply shaking too much, and the sticks fell to the floor with a light clatter. When this happened, he just sighed heavily and covered his face with his hands. This is when I decided to intervene.

"Oliver," I said quietly, easing myself beside him on the floor. "We woke up with an extra blanket this morning. Did you see us doing our…night activities?" I whispered in haste, my face turning crimson.

"I didn't see anything!" he nearly shouted, his head snapping up as his eyes flickered between mine and James's gaze. "I woke sometime during the night, and you two weren't in your bed. I got up and walked down the tunnel, and…" he paused as his face turned scarlet. "I saw your backside, Sir." he mumbled to James as he covered his face. "I realized what had been going on and I ran as quickly as I could to give you your privacy. I came back later and covered you with a blanket, once the two of you were asleep. I didn't see anything, I promise! I didn't even look! I closed my eyes as soon as I knew you would come into my sight, then tossed the blanket on you."

By the time he finished, I was trying not to laugh. It seemed as though he wasn't shaken by what he'd seen, but by thinking we would be furious with him! I glanced up at James, who wore an amused expression, then smiled as I pat Oliver on the shoulder.

"What are you cooking for breakfast?" I asked casually.

"I didn't--What?" he asked, confused at the sudden change in subject.

"I said, what are you cooking for breakfast?" My voice was laced with amusement.

"Uh…Well, something that hasn't gone bad yet. Our food supply is alarmingly low. I had planned on going fishing this morning, but then I saw the sky. Like I said, storms make me skittish. Even just looking at a dark, cloudy sky makes me stand on edge. Cowardly, isn't it?" he finished with a chuckle, shaking his head.

I smiled softly, then pat his shoulder again. "You're not cowardly, you've shown us that with your life story."

He mumbled something, so quietly that I wasn't able to catch it.

"I'm sorry?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. I wish I could have gone fishing this morning."

My smile returned. "That's alright, Oliver. Is there any fruit left? Anything that hasn't gone bad?"

"Oh, we've a few coconuts, and a pineapple or two. That's about all. I told you, our supply is alarming low."

"Hmm." Was all James said.

"Is something the matter, Darling?" I asked quietly.

He still remained in thought for a moment or so more, before snapping back to reality. "Hmm? I'm sorry. No, nothing is the matter."

Perhaps he'd managed to catch what Oliver had said? Certainly it couldn't be bad? I would have to question my dear husband later.

After an awkward moment of silence, Oliver spoke up again. "Well then. I'll get any good, unspoiled fruit that I can find."

* * *

"Relax, Darling. He'll be back." James soothed as he rubbed my shoulders.

I continued staring out the bamboo and vine covered entrance of our cave, looking for any sign of Oliver. "But he's been out there for two hours! It's been raining quite heavily for one hour of that time."

I only heard James sigh in defeat, probably not knowing what to say.

"Why wouldn't you let me gather the food? I know this island as well as I know you, possibly even better." I whispered. "He could be scared out of his mind out there."

"I don't want you out there. He's younger and much faster than both of us. He'll be fine."

"What is it that you're afraid of?!" I hissed. "Ever since the accident with our first baby, you've been completely over-protective!"

"That's just it!" he hissed back. "Davis is probably back on the island, probably has been for weeks!" he sighed, trying to calm himself. "Look, that wasn't the first time he's taken me hostage before. Before that I had a few of my men with me, and believe me when I say he's heartless, and a grudge-holder." he shook his head, his voice becoming softer. "You've no idea what I've seen him do to men, women and children. You've no idea. I _will not_ give him the chance to do any of those things to you." he whispered. "Even if it means sending someone else out while I hide you under my wing." he said, almost in shame while he hung his head.

I sighed, then gently lifted his chin and looked directly into his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me? We could have avoided this argument." I said gently, stroking his cheeks.

"I don't like discussing that man. If you only knew of the things he's done!" he gritted out. "He attacked a ship I was on, earlier in my career. It contained my men and a few of their families. I was hurt pretty badly, not worse than a few months ago, but I was forced to watch as my men were tortured, and attacked. But, their families!" he shuddered, pulling me close to him. "It was horrible. That's why I won't let you out of my sight for any longer than a few minutes. I'm not going to lose you, and I'm certainly not going to lose another baby." he whispered, placing his hand on my flat stomach.

I smiled softly at him, and wrapped my arms about his neck. "You worry too much, you know?"

He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at me.

"With good reason, of course. But still."

I pressed myself tightly against him, just as I had last night, and laid my head on his shoulder. He didn't hesitate in pulling me even closer, until there was no space left between us.

"I still have that bad feeling." he whispered.

"James! Chrissy!"

We both looked up to see Oliver running for us at full speed, dropping small berries and such from his gatherings. He was soaked to the bone and hardly able to breathe as he pushed through the irritating bamboo and vines that kept the entrance to our shelter covered. Carelessly, he dropped the bag of fruit on the cave floor as he fell to his hands and knees, trying desperately to fill his lungs with however much air he could grasp.

"Oliver! Are you alright?!" I nearly shouted in concern as I fell to my knees beside him.

"P-Pirates! They…They were…running from…something." he panted. "Possibly…ot-ther pirates. They…I think someone followed me…they may be here…any minute! We have to take…take a risk and…go through the tunnels…they may lead out…somewhere far from here. We can't stay…I know that much." he said regretfully through breaths.

"James?" I questioned.

His head snapped up at the sound of shouting, and he glanced desperately around the cave before looking back down into our eager, nervous gazes. "Grab however much food, bottles of water, and supplies that you can. We'll toss them in a blanket and go as far as safety will allow us to in the tunnels."

"But, I've never been down those tunnels, James! There's no telling…" I started.

At the sound of shouting, he gazed eagerly and seemingly regretfully at me. "We've no other choice. It would appear that the tunnels are our safest decision."

With a quick nod, I stood. "To the tunnels."

**HEY!! OVER HERE!! Alright, I'm sorry if any of the characters were out of character towards the end of the chapter. The last bit of my day at school was a bit rough, and I got a bunch of homework at the last minute. So, after being annoyed at recieving homework I don't understand, and other annoying complications, I hope I was able to get the last bit of the chapter in-character and able to make it make sense. Hey, you know how you could make the end of my day a bit brighter? With reviews! Please review! Thanks! I hope you liked this chapter!**


	10. Ice

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

Chills traveled my spine and seemingly rattled my ribcage as I walked through the tunnels with Chrissy and Oliver. The darkness seemed to consume us, forcing us to walk close together even though our lantern shined brightly in the abyss of the tunnel. The atmosphere felt very somber, not making the dampness and cold of the place any better. The ground was slimy and covered in grime, causing our footsteps to echo with a squish, instead of the prominent sound of a foot striking the ground.

Every now and then, in certain areas of the tunnel, we'd hear rain pounding relentlessly above us. It would be so loud and dark at times that we'd have to stop and huddle around the lantern, wait for the loud rain to ease up until we could hear each other talk, then gather our things and continue. We'd also hear the occasional sound of bats chirping and flapping their wings, and other times we'd hear rain leaking in from somewhere within the tunnel.

I silently allowed my eyes to flick back and forth between the wet walls and the ground, weighing my options, when I nearly slipped and fell into something dark, freezing, and wet. "Stop! Don't go any further!" I warned my wife and som.

"What is it?" Oliver ventured, walking a few steps closer than I would have liked for him to.

I furrowed my brows and lowered my lantern. I was standing dangerously close to the edge of a small pool, no larger length or width wise than three grown men laying shoulder-to-shoulder on the ground. Surprisingly, the water was clear, allowing me to be able to see the bottom of the pool. I estimated that if I walked all the way in, the water would come to at least my hips. Looking to my left, I found that water was running silently down the tunnel wall, causing it to look as though someone had taken a shovel and shallowly scooped out the one area where the water was trailing down the grayish rock.

I turned and smiled lightly at my family. "A shallow pool of water." I said, my relief showing in my voice that we wouldn't run out of water now.

"If we make camp, I'd wager that this is the best place we do." Chrissy said, relief also showing in her sentence.

"It's settled, then. I'll set up the beds." Oliver said tiredly as he walked away from us.

* * *

I laid quietly, contently in James's arms as he gazed at me in the faint light of the lantern. A light sigh passed my lips as his hands traveled my back, silently soothing the pains I'd been feeling from a long, exhausting day. A playful smirk pulled at the corners of my lips, and I began to rub James's chest in long, slow strokes. A soft groan sounded quietly in the deepest part of his throat, and my smirk melted into a smile. Very, very slowly, my hands trailed lower and lower until they grasped the hem of his shirt. James's face stayed composed, but his eyes sparked with poorly hidden surprise. My smirk returned as one of my hands went beneath his shirt, and my fingers splayed as I pushed that hand upward. My other hand, however, continued going lower. My smirk increased as James's eyes widened, and I fingered the hem of his breeches playfully as I still pushed that hand downward.

James squirmed nervously as he quickly grabbed said hand and pinned it to his chest. "Don't tease!" he whispered roughly, his warm breath lightly caressing my face as he said it.

"Why not?" I asked, still pushing my other hand up beneath his shirt.

"You know why!" he hissed. "You know what you do to me." he whispered, his tone a bit softer as one of his hands stroked my face tenderly.

"I know." I smiled, thinking of the times I'd made him squirm with just my gaze.

I placed a long, gentle kiss on his lips as those memories quickly flooded my mind. The happy memories of our home in Port Royal, and of Isabella, Phillip, Theodore, and Abigail, who I considered siblings. Except Theodore, who was my brother. His fiancée, Abigail, was like a close sister and protective mother all in one to me. I smiled at the thought of how happy she made my dear brother, before my thoughts jumped to Alexander. Just picturing his warm eyes and kind smile made me feel warm in this cold place, like a blanket had been draped over me.

But as quickly as the feeling had come, it dissolved and became an ache as I wondered if I would ever get to see the man that I considered a father, or the people that I loved like siblings. I leaned up and kissed James again, trying to force out the once happy memories that had now become painful. James, who had felt the change in my kiss and mood, gently tilted my chin up to get a better look at my eyes.

"What is the matter?" he asked quietly.

A sigh passed my lips as I gazed sadly into his eyes. "I was thinking about the happy times we've shared in our home in Port Royal. Then I started to think about Alexander, and Theodore…then the rest of our family." I paused. "What if we don't see them…ever? What if we don't get away from…"

My what-if's were silenced by James's lips, his kiss comforting me somewhat. "Don't think like that. We will get away from Davis."

I gently stroked his cheeks at the display of determination and anger in his eyes and voice. Protectively, he pulled me completely against his body, and his arms tightened considerably around me.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked carefully.

"Davis." he growled. "You should be in this condition…you shouldn't have to be in fear because of him." he paused, then closed his eyes. "He's caused too much pain and fear. I want to end this so badly." he seethed.

"Shh…" I tried soothing his anger. "Relax, James. Relax." I tried rubbing his chest and continued to coo to him.

He breathed in deeply, held it, then exhaled loudly. "I'm sorry." he whispered, his eyes glowing a bit dimmer now with his fury.

I smiled, and snuggled against him as I tucked my head beneath his chin. "Don't worry about it. Try to sleep now, James." I whispered. "Try to sleep."

Shortly after the words left my mouth, I found myself having difficulty deeping my eyes open. Minutes later, I'd drifted into a light, dreamless sleep.

* * *

_I was surrounded by pirates…hundreds, it seemed. They were all grinning wickedly at me, and all of them had a sharp weapon of some sort. The weapons ranged from swords, rusted old daggers, to broken rum bottles. Seemingly, all at once, they lunged me, each jabbing me with their sharp objects all at the same time. I screamed out in pain and tried to back away from them, but it was a wasted attempt. They all followed me and jabbed again and again. I continued to scream and back away, but something stopped me. I could feel someone's hands on my upper arms, and I looked up at the person in hope. My eyes filled with horror when I realized it was James, and he was looking at me with the same wicked expression._

_"Help me!" I cried._

_He didn't._

_He started to yell at me, and got angrier and angrier when I couldn't make out what he was saying. The pirates were yelling and jeering, and it was simply too loud for me to hear him. I screamed like a little boy as the pirates jabbed harder and harder, and James continued to yell more and more._

_"Wake up, Oliver! Wake up!" he screamed._

_The pirates became silent all of a sudden, but James continued to scream me to wake up. A tall, nicely dressed figure stepped forward, despite James's screams._

_Davis._

_I tried to step back, but James's grip was too tight, like he was holding on for his life. I began to scream with James as well as the pirates dared to jab harder, and I realized something wasn't right. I looked at Davis a bit closer as my screams continued, and realized that he'd been stabbed right through the stomach, and shot in the head. He was bleeding heavily from his wounds, the blood covering the entire right side of his face, neck, and shoulder. The blood from his stomach wound covered from his stomach to his fine leather boots, but he continued to stand and grin like a mad man, as though he wasn't in pain._

_I watched in horror as he drew a pistol from his bloody belt, some of the blond covering his hand and the shiny barrel of the gun. Before he pulled the trigger, he said something. I tried to read his lips, tried to make out the one word he'd said, but I didn't have time to figure it out. He pulled the trigger as James's screams and my own echoed in my ears._

* * *

"Wake up!" Were the first words I heard when I woke up screaming, the nightmare still fresh and realistic in my head.

My body still stung like I was being jabbed with hundreds of weapons. I sat up and swatted at my body, knocking someone's hands off of my arms in the process. The stinging continued, as did my screams, and I did the next thing I thought best. I got to my feet as quickly as I could and ran, not stopping until I was under the surface of the small pool. The water was freezing, like I was swimming next to a glacier. The hundreds of weapons went away, but now I was in shock from the freezing cold of the water.

"Cold! How could the water be this cold?" I thought to myself.

It was cold in this tunnel, yes. But could it be possible for the water to be this cold? No matter. It had done three good things for me. It had rid me of the jabbing, and numbed the pain with the cold. I was also wide awake, as well.

"Get out! Find a way out!" My instincts shouted.

But I couldn't move. I felt frozen, like I was stuck in the middle of a glacier and there was no way out. My body was slowly shutting down, I could feel it. I could hear my pulse in my ears like a stampede of horses right beside me…and it was getting slower. I tried to move my arms and legs, but those felt frozen stiff too. My chest was beginning to feel tight, and my lungs were seemingly shrinking, screaming for air.

Just as the air left my lungs and water replaced it, something grasped my upper arms. I could feel myself being lifted, and then a shiver shook my entire body as a wave of cool air rushed to greet my wet body. My vision blurred a bit, and I could feel myself fading. Was I dying? Why couldn't I breathe? A simple task that I'd learned how to do the moment I was brought into this world seemed to have escaped my mind, and I felt like I was being squeezed to death.

"Move!" I heard a female voice order.

I felt my arms and legs being pushed away from my body, and I could barely tell that I was now sprawled out completely on the ground. It felt as though someone was tearing at my body, trying frantically to rid me of something. The tearing and clawing went away in only a matter of seconds, and then I was still again. That is, until a pair of hands began pushing forcefully down on my chest. The next thing I felt were lips against my own and then…air! Sweet, wonderful air. When the lips left mine, the pumping on my chest started again. As though something clicked in my brain, I began taking in large sums of air. This triggered a different reaction, however, and I began to cough.

I could feel a pair of hands on my upper arms again, and then I could feel myself being turned on my side. My coughing became so bad that I began to gag, and shortly after, I coughed up the water that had been in my lungs…and whatever had been in my stomach. Whatever it was, it tasted horrible…like acid was being forced up my throat and out of my mouth. When the horrid event was over, I drew my legs and arms close to my body, only to find that I was completely naked. I didn't care, though. All I cared about was the precious air entering and exiting my lungs.

* * *

"James, would you fetch a blanket while I get him on his feet?" I asked quietly as I stroked Oliver's hair out of his face.

James didn't say anything as he got up with a huff.

"Come along, Oliver. It's vital that we get you moving…we need to get the blood flowing through your veins at a normal rate." I urged, tugging on his arms as I said so.

With a bit of tugging, and a small amount of effort on Oliver's part, I got him to his feet in only a matter of moments.

"Bloody..!" James shuddered.

"What?! What is it?!" I rushed, trying move Oliver quickly along with me.

"Look!"

I looked to the blanket that Oliver had been laying on only…only moments ago, and shuddered as well. Hundreds of spiders seemed to be crawling angrily across Oliver's makeshift bed. They appeared to be no larger than my thumb nail, and were different colors. They had a shiny sheen about them, and they ranged in color from green, to blue, red.

"Get back! Get back from them!" I cautioned James. "Grab one of our blankets. I don't think I see any spiders on them. Check to be sure, first, though. We don't need him to get bitten anymore than he already has been. We've got to get him covered up and moving."

James quickly obliged…probably in haste because of the fact that Oliver was standing completely naked beside me. I didn't care, though. If we'd have kept those cold cloths on him, we may as well have just let him die.

"Here. It doesn't have any spiders on it, I checked." James stated as he quickly draped the blanket about Oliver's shoulders, then pulled it around and covered the rest of his still shivering body.

With a nod, I quietly pulled Oliver to me and began rubbing his back and shoulders, and every now and then I would make him jump up and down, or something of that sort. When I became satisfied with the amount of movement he did, I had James move the beds, and check for spiders before we eased Oliver down atop the blankets.

"What are you doing?" James asked irritably as I laid down beside Oliver…who was still shivering. "You realize that he's naked beneath that blanket?"

"He needs warmth, James. This blanket isn't good enough." I whispered, wrapping my arms about Oliver as I said it. "Come along, James. He can use all the heat he can get."

"Darling…" he started.

"I don't care!" I nearly shouted. "He doesn't have anything you don't! I will not lose another child, James! Now get down here and share your body heat, like me. That's an order!"

Without another word James eased himself down on the blanket, then pressed himself against Oliver as I had, causing him to be pressed tightly and warmly between us.

"Go to sleep now, Oliver." I whispered as I stroked his hair. "Go to sleep."

Oliver whimpered as he continued to shake and shiver, trying his best to fall asleep as I had told him. I held him close to me as I shushed and cooed, even sang lullabies to him as I tried to rock him from the position we were in.

"He's asleep." James whispered after a few minutes. "You need sleep, too."

"After that?" I chuckled. "I won't be getting anymore sleep."

With a sigh, James began to stroke my cheek tenderly. "At least try." he yawned.

He was asleep shortly after.

I did exactly as I said I would. I didn't catch anymore sleep after the events that had occurred. I stayed awake until the sun rose, and continued to hold Oliver to me the entire time.

**GO CHRISSY!! It seems that James isn't the only one who can give orders! Please review! Thanks!**


	11. Lots of Red

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

Having gotten no sleep, not even having attempted sleep, I just stared at the tunnel walls while Oliver and James lightly snored away. But, as I listened to the rhythmic breathing of my men, I began to take notice that the walls were turning lighter shades of gray, like someone kept dragging a paint brush across them every five minutes of a lighter color. In fact, it got to the point that I didn't need a lantern to see. I could actually see sunlight at the end of the tunnel!

I quietly pulled myself from James and Oliver and got to my feet in one smooth motion. Excitement building in me, I walked in large strides towards the sunlight, towards freedom. Vines covered the exit heavily, causing me to groan and growl in frustration as I tried to push through.

When I finally did get past the troublesome vines, I stood and absorbed the sunlight, not caring that the brightness was hurting my eyes. I breathed deeply, enjoying the fact that everything smelled so fresh, so…green. I was surrounded by green! Green ferns…full, large palm trees with large green leaves. Young green saplings and vines. The ground even seemed to be green, covered in fallen green leaves.

I inhaled the jungle aroma again, and walked forward to see if I could figure out where we were. I could smell water mixed in with the smell of leaves and trees, and could hear it, too. After a few moments of walking, I suddenly froze, and my eyes widened.

I knew our exact location.

I took off from my stand-still to an all out sprint. I took off so quickly, that if someone blinked, they would have missed my sudden start off. It was all hitting me at once. The familiar sounds and smells, the locations of the trees…I knew them all. I jumped over enormous tree-roots, I ducked under low branches…I launched myself between closely-grown palm trees and even swung from a few sturdy vines. I knew exactly where to go.

It was as though I'd never left. I smiled at the sight before me as I literally dug my heels into the soft ground. The clear water, the rocks spread out here and there, and the waterfall. This was where James and I had shared our first kiss, where he'd taught me how to dance. I nearly cried as the memories flooded my mind, and I sank to my knees in the water and bent over the surface and drank.

I savored the taste as I pushed from my chin to the bridge of my nose under the water. It tasted just as I remembered.

"James!" I whispered.

He'd need to see this! I leapt to my feet and took off, arriving faster to the tunnel than I had the water. It didn't take me quite as long to push through the vines, either. It felt like I just waltzed right through them compared to last time.

"Chrissy?"

I started a bit at the weak call. I'd not been expecting anyone to be up yet. Though, it wasn't the fact that someone else was awake that startled me. It was the fact that the voice that had called me had sounded so weak, and pain-filled.

"Chrissy?" Came the weak call again.

I stepped forward, squinting. Though the sun was shining in, the tunnel was still very dark. I continued forward anyway, my eyes adjusting as I tried to make out the awake figure. It was Oliver. He was sitting up and looking about, and his breathing sound quick, like he was panicked. Upon hearing this, I made my way to him in a haste, then knelt down in front of him once I reached him.

"I'm here, Oliver. Don't worry." I whispered as I cupped the left side of his face.

"I can't see you!" he nearly cried in panic.

I furrowed my brows. It wasn't that dark in here. I could see him perfectly now. "Can you see my hand?" I asked, putting said body part not even an inch from his face.

"No!" he panicked. "I can't see anything!"

I got up quickly and grabbed his breeches from where I'd laid them out last night to dry. "Can you stand up without stepping on James, or do you need me to guide you?"

"Help." he whispered.

I wasted no time in tugging him to his feet, before handing his breeches to him. "Put this on. It's your breeches. Maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you, because of the darkness of the tunnel." I said hopefully.

After feeling around for a few minutes, and with a little struggle, Oliver had his breeches on, and was soon reaching out for me. "Where are you?"

"I'm here, in front of you. See? This is my hand touching your shoulder."

When he didn't respond, I knelt down and grasped James's shoulder and shook with a lot of force. "James, wake up!" I shouted.

James jerked to a sitting position with a start, his green eyes wide with alarm. "What is it?!"

"I'll explain in a moment, dearest. On your feet, now."

With his brows furrowed, he did as I told him as I stood and placed my hands on Oliver's shoulders.

"Oliver, James is going to carry you, alright? Don't be alarmed. We're going to take you out in the sunlight to see if that makes things any better." I explained in a soothing voice.

He nodded curtly.

James's brow remained furrowed. I shook my head, mouthing that he would find out in a moment. With our silent conversation over, James put one arm around Oliver's back, and the other at the back of his knees. Oliver whimpered a bit as James lifted him with ease. Perhaps he was still sore from his misadventure last night/ I shook my head as though I could rid the images from my memory that occurred last night, then lightly gripped James's upper arm and began to lead him to the end of the tunnel.

"When did you find this?" James whispered.

"What?" I asked, still distracted by Oliver's reactions.

"The way out of the tunnel. When did you find it?"

"This morning when the sun rose. I could see the sunlight shining through." I answered quietly as I held the vines away from the exit, allowing James to get through easier. "Alright, ease him on the ground." I whispered, having lost my voice at the sight.

Oliver's skin had changed dramatically since last night. From his face to the hem of his breeches, he was incredibly pale, like a corpse. He was covered in thumb-sized purple knots where he'd been bitten, making it appear that he had hundreds of small bruises.

"I…I can't see." he breathed. "Well, not clearly. Everything is blurred, some things are blurred together." he whimpered.

I knelt down and gently cupped his milk-colored face in my small hands, then looked him directly in the eyes. I realized that his once light, grayish colored eyes were tinted a reddish color, making him appear to be a supernatural being. His pupils were tiny, and seemed to be covered by a purplish fog.

I waved my right hand before his eyes. "Can you see my hand?"

He nodded weakly. "Barely. It's just a blur."

Out of curiosity, I held my hand still in front of his face. "What color does my hand appear to be?"

He furrowed his brows and squinted, even leaned forward a bit and stared at my hand. "Sort of a reddish, purplish color. Everything is the same color, actually. That's why some shapes appear to be one instead of two." he whispered, gasping for air after just the three sentences.

I looked over at James worriedly as he knelt down beside me. "I've been bitten by these spiders before. They travel in groups to have a bigger affect on their prey, but, I've never seen that many in a group before!"

He furrowed his brows, and I could see the concern in his eyes. "When did you get bitten? How many bit you?"

I sighed. "About five years before I met you. I was bitten by ten, at least. I never got this sick, though." I whispered, gesturing to Oliver. "They do cause temporary, semi-blindness, and your skin does go pale."

"What about his sight? The color he's seeing and the change to his eye color?"

I nodded. "That's to be expected. Though, when I had it, everything appeared to be scarlet. I guess it has a different sight affect with different people."

"Well, what about the knots where he was bitten?" he asked.

I nodded. "That's to be expected, too."

His eyes widened. "That big?!" he whispered in shock. "Look at those! They're as big as your thumb!"

"Yes. That's normal for this type of spider bite." I assured him.

He sighed and turned his attention back to Oliver, who looked on the edge of fainting. He lifted his left hand and gently opened one of Oliver's half-closed eyes, and studied the different coloring the venom was causing. When he finished studying his eyes, he turned his attention to the large, purple knots, and gently brushed his index finger over the top of one of the bites. Oliver's eyes jerked open, and his muscles flexed then un-flexed several times before his head fell back against the ground.

I quietly seized James's wrist and clutched it to my chest. "From now on, don't touch the knots. They itch, burn, and cause you to be very, very sore."

"Is there a cure? Are they…fatal…if not taken care of?" he asked as soon as he was certain Oliver had passed out.

I sighed again. "I…I don't know." I replied brokenly, an audible lump in my throat. "I've never gotten it this bad before! When I would get bitten, I was only sick for a week! But this…" I faltered.

I rubbed my eyes furiously, trying to stop the flood of tears filling them. When James began rubbing my back, trying to comfort me, I shook hands off. "I'm not supposed to be acting this way! He isn't dead!" I growled through gritted teeth. "There is one thin we can try. Whenever I would get bitten, I would crawl down to my swimming area and pull a certain plant from the water. It would sooth the itching, and take care of a little of the soreness. I think there's some sort of protein in it that helps you fight it off, as well."

He nodded. "It sounds helpful, but…aren't we quite a distance from where they're found?"

I smiled. "No. We're only a few yards from the swimming area, James! I found it this morning!"

A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Let's go, then."

I nodded. "Let me fetch his shirt, and some weapons, then we'll go."

* * *

Though my wife wasn't saying anything, I could tell by her body language that she was telling me to be gentle as I lowered Oliver to the ground. I eased him gently against a rock near the water's edge, purposely putting his feet in the water to see if it would bring his temperature down.

"Get his bandana wet, it might help." she suggested as she waded knee-deep in the clear pool.

"What exactly are we looking for?" I asked as I removed his bandana.

"It's a deep shade of red…" she started, now up to her hips. "It looks like…a quill, if you would. They usually grow beneath the surface, or just above it."

Her eyes brightened up suddenly, and in a heartbeat she dove gracefully under the surface. I watched anxiously through the clear, sparkling water as she grabbed plant after plant, not leaving until she'd gotten all of the ones before her. Moments later, her head broke the surface, and she swam to us as best as she could with the plants clutched in her left hand.

Just as she'd said, the plants were in the shape of a quill. The stem was thin and black, and the actual plant part of it was red, and flared out like a feather. Its texture was smooth, and appeared to be a bit slimy.

"Wake him up." she said quietly as she crawled up next to Oliver.

"Oliver!" I said in a loud, clear voice as I shook his shoulder.

His eyes flutter open lazily, and filled with pain immediately. He squeezed his eyes shut in agony, and gripped fistfuls of soft, wet earth. "Make it stop!" he moaned. "It's too loud!"

I glanced at my wife in confusion, then looked back to Oliver. "What's too loud, Oliver? What do you hear?"

"The clanging! Can't you hear it? It's so loud!" he cried.

For the first time today, I stopped to listen. Then there it was! The distant clanging of swords! It sounded like many of them were clanging together, before the gunshots started going off. Oliver covered his ears and nearly fell over when this happened.

"Grab him!" Chrissy rushed. "We need to figure out what's going on!"

* * *

The familiar winding path led us from the swimming area to the front of the beach, where all of the fighting was going on. I was both surprised, and thrilled, to find that Davis's crew was being fought by men wearing Royal Navy uniforms. Looking closer, I found that I recognized some of the men.

"Oliver," I said in a strict voice as I hid him beneath some of the brush. "Stay here. I'll come back for you when this is over."

Chrissy knelt down and handed him the strange red plants, and nodded. "Do as he says, alright? You're going to be fine."

"We need to help them." I told her desperately. "I can't just stand by while my men fight!"

I drew my sword, anxious to dive into the battle. There was a certain captain I wanted to take revenge on.

She nodded, also drawing her sword. That's all I needed. I rushed forward with a scowl on my face, determination and adrenalin pulsing through my veins. I swung at the first man that came at me, striking him down without flaw. Some of the pirates were surprised to see me, and I took advantage of that. I swung at two of the men with my bloodied sword, hitting both of them successfully. One of them stumbled back in pain, and the other lunged forward. I swung at him in rage, taking him out with just a few swings.

All the while, my eyes searched furiously for Davis, who I found fighting Lieutenant Theodore Groves not very far from me. I began running at them, swinging blindly to make sure no one got in the way. The two of them looked at me with shock, both freezing briefly before Davis turned and swung at me. I blocked his blow and lunged.

"I thought you were dead?!" he yelled above all the noise.

"I'm obviously not!" I screamed, lunging again.

He dodged, then swung at my right shoulder. I growled when his blade struck me, but barely felt the pain. I was too angry. I swung at his chest and hit my target, leaving a bloody slash. He staggered back, then lunged again.

"Come now, Admiral! We must put on a good show for our audience!" he laughed, trying to cover his obvious pain.

I glanced quickly around me, only to realize that all of the fighting had stopped. Both pirates and navy men had frozen in surprise that I was alive, and watched as I had it out in fury with the pirate captain. Davis took advantage of my momentary distraction to lunge at me. I jumped away quickly, and his sword only grazed the knuckles of my right hand. I ignored the pain. I used my anger to urge me on.

"This is between you and me." I growled.

He only smirked as he reached inside his coat with his free hand, withdrawing a pistol. Panic began taking over my senses as he pointed the gun not at me, but at Chrissy, who was standing in front of our small crowd. Out of desperation, I jumped back a bit and kicked at his right hand as hard as I could. His sword flew out of his grasp and landed with a thud in the sand.

He only grinned. "I won't be needing that anyway."

I lunged forward, shoving my blade through his stomach. To my satisfaction, it went completely through him. His eyes widened, and the hand holding his pistol lowered slightly. He turned to me with shock in his eyes.

"You killed my son!" I snarled, twisting the blade in his gut.

His jaw tightened as he tried to appear strong in front of his crew.

"You tortured me, and an innocent young boy!" I growled, twisting my sword again.

His hand tightened on the handle of his pistol.

I gripped his right shoulder, and stepped close, so that I was dangerously near his face. "You made the fatal mistake of touching my wife!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, so that all of the people surrounding us could hear. "No. One. Touches. Her." I hissed, driving my sword hard the rest of the way, until the base of the hilt was shoved against his stomach.

To my surprise, and everyone else's, he smiled, and chuckled wickedly. "Did the boy…ever…tell you? Do you know…who's son…you've been…taking care of…this entire…time?" he asked through heavy breaths. He turned his head and looked at Oliver, who emerged from the crowd. "Lord…Cutler…Beckett's. That's…who."

He raised his hand again and pulled the trigger. Oliver's eyes closed as he fell limply to the ground, and lay there, unmoving.

**Evil cliff hanger! Don't worry, I've already got some of the next chapter written, and an idea of what I want in the rest of it. Hopefully I'll have it up soon. Please review! Thanks!**


	12. Salt in My Wounds

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.

* * *

Everything happened in a blur. My hand tightened around the handle of my sword as Oliver's body sank limply to the ground. Chrissy's gasp filled my ears when the golden sand beneath him stained red. Nobody moved. Nobody moved but Oliver. His head turned weakly in the sand, and his agony-filled eyes focused on Davis. He pulled his right hand out from under his body, a pistol clutched so tightly in it that all of the veins and muscles in his arms seemed to bulge out. He closed his eyes tightly as tears streaked awkwardly across his face, due to the fact that his left cheek was pressed to the sand. A sharp breath escaped him as though he'd been kicked in the chest, just before he slowly squeezed the trigger.

I flinched as blood speckled the left side of my face and part of my shirt. Davis's body flew sideways from the force of the bullet, yanking my sword from my hand. I stared down at the unmoving, bloody body. Oliver had shot him through the head. The life of Captain John Davis was no more.

Shouting and cheering from the navy sailors shook me back to reality. I looked to my family, my chest moving rapidly up and down as I tried to regain my breath. Chrissy was knelt down next to Oliver, as were Lieutenants Theodore Groves and Andrew Gillett. I staggered to them with unsteady footsteps, not taking notice that soldiers were pushing the pirates past me towards the ship. When I reached them, I fell to my knees in the blood-stained sand. The whole right-side and front of Oliver's shirt was a deep shade of red. His left hand was clamped over the darkest area of red, and was also bloodied. His right hand still grasped the pistol. Chrissy was in a panic, and the only thing holding her back was Theodore's strong embrace.

"Take her aboard the ship, away from here." I said quickly, but calmly.

As Theodore began to lead her away, Chrissy's sobs and screams intensified. She thrashed, turned and twisted and dragged her feet, but Theodore held strong. I brought my attention back to Oliver when Chrissy was finally dragged aboard. His breaths were coming in short, ragged spurts. His red-tinted eyes were wide with fear and agony, and he let out a scream filled with terror and pain.

I quietly pried his hand from his wound and pulled his shirt up, revealing his pale, purple-knotted skin. Andrew stumbled back, shocked.

"What's wrong with him?!" he asked.

I motioned for him to come back. "He's not sick. He was bitten by spiders."

"Spiders?" he mumbled.

"Chrissy?" Oliver called, his voice shaking with fear.

"She's on the ship. I'm here, Oliver. I didn't want her to see you this way." I told him calmly as I squeezed his shoulder.

"I don't want to die!" he sobbed.

I shook my head, even though I knew he couldn't tell. "You're going to be alright." I soothed. "Andrew, fetch me a surgeon."

* * *

I paced the cabin in both worry and anger. James had kept me locked up in here for an hour, at least, since we'd shoved off. What was going on? Where were we? Where has my husband gone off to? An angry sigh passed my lips for the tenth time as I stormed over to the bookshelf. I stood and stared at the miniature library, nothing really catching my attention at first.

I began to walk away, when a black book with gold lettering caught my attention. I walked toward the book with furrowed brows and pulled it off the shelf. My features softened when I saw that the title said "Holy Bible". James would read to me from this book every night, about an hour before we would go to bed. That was before we'd been abducted, though. It didn't hit me until I looked back down at the Bible how much I'd been missing it.

With another sigh, this one a bit softer than the other ten, I took a seat on James's bed and began to read.

* * *

James entered the cabin quietly, a very tired expression on his face. I closed the Bible, of which I'd been reading for two hours, and put it on his shelf.

"How is he?" I asked quietly as I stopped even less than a foot from him.

His hair was mussed up like he'd been running his hands through it over and over, and he still had dried blood on the left side of his face and clothing. He appeared to have a bit of fresh blood on him as well, and this didn't help my worry.

"James?" I tried again, panic lacing my voice.

He nodded slightly as he staggered forward and kissed me weakly. "We got the bullet out. It was nestled in his flesh, just beneath the right point of his ribcage. If it had been any higher, he wouldn't have made it."

"Where is he?" I asked shakily.

"We found a spare, empty bedroom for him to stay in. He's sleeping now, thank goodness. He put up quite a fight. Several men had to hold him down for the surgeon to do his work." he studied me weakly for a few minutes, allowing his tired eyes to skim my body. " I take it my men prepared the hot bath for you, just as I told them?" he said quietly as he reach out and stroked my damp hair.

I nodded. "They did. Curiously, though. They didn't even spare me a glance."

He smiled. "They saw what I did to Davis, just for touching you." he leaned down and kissed me again, but when he started to pull away, he changed his mind and captured my lower lip for a longer kiss. "Was it enjoyable?" he whispered against my neck as he placed kisses on it as well.

"Yes. It feels nice to finally be clean. You could use a bath, too." I told him half seriously and half playfully as I once again looked at the blood splattered on him.

He smiled and placed one more kiss near my collarbone. "It does sound nice."

My eyes followed his figure as he walked to the tub of steaming water and shed his blood-stained clothing. A groan passed his lips when he eased himself down into the soap suds-covered water. I winced as he began to nurse his wounded right shoulder. The slash look deep, and very irritated. He grunted when the soapy water came into contact with his wound, and I was at his side in a heartbeat.

"They didn't patch your wounds?" I asked irritably as I inspected his shoulder and bloody right-hand knuckles.

"There were other men there that had much worse wounds than me. The surgeons had their hands full." he said, wincing all the while I made my inspections.

"James!" I scolded softly. "I can see infection trying to start, right here." I pointed out, probing an area of his sword wound.

He grunted at my probing. I sighed through my nose as I picked up the rag and bar of soap that I'd left near the tub. "This may sting a bit." I began to lightly dab at and scrub the wound in his shoulder, which earned me a hiss from James. "Easy…Shh…" I soothed as I tried to scrub lighter.

It became silent as I became absorbed in my task and my thoughts. What was it that Davis had said just before Oliver had shot him? Beckett? Yes, that was it. Beckett. Lord Cutler Beckett. Where had I heard that name before.

"Beckett?" I mumbled.

James's eyes were on mine as soon as the word left my mouth.

"James, is that the name of the man that did all of those…horrible things to innocent people? To you?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes."

I looked down. "And…Oliver…is his heir?"

"Yes." he said gravely.

My eyes found his again and silently pleaded, while my voice filled with determination. "I'm not giving him up, James. I don't care who his father was…he's my son now."

"I know." he whispered, laying a comforting hand atop mine as he did. "When we get back to Port Royal, we can go to Alexander. He can help us with adoption papers, and Oliver's name. We'll have it changed from Beckett to Norrington. No one will ever know about his past, and he can be spared a lot of public humiliation."

I nodded and began scrubbing his face and neck. "Wait." I said, stopping again. "Why a lot? Why won't he be spared of all public humiliation?"

He shook his head sadly. "Because of the simple fact that he's coming to live with us. Because we're adopting him as our own. People will talk because they have nothing better to do."

I shook my head as well, though a bit angrier than James, and started to scrub yet again. What was it about the elite society and gossiping so badly it could ruin someone's life? Or, make life for the person being gossiped about a lot more difficult.

"Easy!" James hissed. "Are you trying to remove my skin?"

"I'm sorry." I mumbled upon realizing I'd scrubbed his chest to the point that it was pink. "I have so much on my mind…" It didn't come out right. It was supposed to come out in a sigh, but instead it came out in a cracked, broken voice. Then, before I knew it, I had a lump in my throat and I was trying to hold back tears.

The next thing I knew, James's warm, wet hand was on my cheek, and a kiss was placed on my forehead. "Go lie down, darling. I can finish here. It's alright." he soothed.

I nodded numbly and stood. James took the rag and soap easily from my shaking hands as I walked around the tub. "Do you need any help?" he called.

"I'm not completely helpless." I mumbled.

I fell down on the bed without effort, and curled into a ball without thinking. That's when the tears started. Why did it seem that the ones I loved always suffered? Why wouldn't anything ever happen to me, instead of my loved ones? My parents had died looking for food on the island, James had been shot twice a year ago, and was nearly killed yet again by a revenge-seeking pirate captain. Now all of this with Oliver! Maybe I should just stay away from my family to protect them…No. That would kill James. Perhaps if I stayed in the manner all day all the time …that would kill _me_. But, it's better than anyone dear to me getting hurt, or worse.

I shuddered as the memory of James with amnesia filled my mind, and I curled into a tighter ball as the tears intensified. My chest began to ache, and my eyes burned. I'd never felt more pain than when my fiancé didn't remember me, or remember proposing to me. Even getting mauled by the black panther wasn't as painful as those dark two months.

In the background I could hear James getting up and out of the tub, and then the rustling of a towel as he dried himself off. I didn't even try to calm myself when I heard his footsteps drawing near. I didn't want to calm down, I wanted to get it out of my system. I continued crying, even when I felt him lay his hand comfortingly on my right shoulder. I snatched his hand greedily in both of mine and held it tightly to my chest. I wanted to feel his warmth, because I felt so cold. It felt as though his warmth was the only thing that could keep my cold body alive.

"You're trembling." he whispered.

"I feel so cold…" I choked.

He gently pulled his hand away and folded the bed sheets over me, then sat down on the edge of the mattress and began to rub my back. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

"I don't know anymore!" I sobbed.

"Are you sick? Hurt? Do you need a doctor?" he asked calmly.

"A doctor can't help…James…I feel like everything is my fault!" I cried.

His hand stopped moving, and he rolled me over on my back. "What?!" he sounded like he'd lost his voice.

"My parent's death…you getting shot, amnesia, and tortured…Oliver's condition…My fault." I mumbled.

"No…no! None of that was your fault! Your father died because he was foolish! I'm an Admiral of the Royal Navy, my life is in danger every day! I knew the risks when I joined, Chrissy. Oliver's condition was obviously meant to happen, dear. None of that was your fault!" he explained quickly, quietly.

"It all happened when I came around. Maybe I…don't belong." I whispered. My voice was still cracking.

The next thing I knew, my hands were pinned above my head and James was sitting on my upper thighs. "Don't say that! Don't even think that!' he said sadly.

I studied his eyes for a long, silent moment. They appeared to be quite alarmed, with grief, pain and desperation mixed in. My eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat upon stumbling across realization. "You think I want to leave you." I stated as all of the air left my lungs.

His eyebrows twitched and his breath caught in his throat, but he said nothing.

I shook my head slowly. "No…James. No! I would never leave you!" Was my soundless reply.

I struggled to free my hands from above my head. James didn't look away from my face, but let go and allowed me to pull him down on top of me and roll him over on his side. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, pulling him as tightly as I could against my body as was possible. Only then did I realize he was clad in just a pair of breeches, and the rest of him was bare.

"I wouldn't put you through that. You know I wouldn't." I said against his chest.

His arms tightened around my waist, and still, he said nothing. He didn't have to, his actions said it all. Don't go. Don't let go.

"I won't let go." I whispered.

I heard him swallow hard, and he pressed his face to the top of my head. "Why…why would you feel that leaving would solve the problem?" he asked weakly.

"Nothing happens to me…just my loved ones."

"No." he said, pulling back so he could look me in the eyes. "What has happened is life!" he nearly cried as he sat up and rested his weight on his knees and feet.

I noticed that in the process of getting up, he knocked my arms from around him, but he allowed my legs to stay locked around his waist.

He looked down at me with sad eyes as he pinned me down by the shoulders. "You can't just run away at every wrong turn!" The corners of his lips twitched. "I did. I ran to Tortuga, and it messed my head up for quite a bit. I ran from the problem, and I regretted it." he leaned down, and, didn't wrap his arms around me, but pressed them firmly along the sides of my torso, and pushed his hands under me so he could grip my shoulders from the back. "Don't make my mistake." he whispered. He lowered his head until our noses were touching. "Don't run from the problem. Don't be stupid."

He let out a long, shaky sigh and pressed his face to the curve of my neck. We laid there unmoving, with the exception of our uneven breathing. Did he really think I would leave him, after everything we'd been through? My eyes hardened upon realization. He was insecure of me because of Elizabeth. She'd accepted his proposal, pretended she loved him, then shoved it all in his face in public. She'd betrayed him in fron of everyone that knew him…publicly humiliated him, and that's why he was holding me so tightly.

"Promise me." he whispered, sitting up to look at me. "At least promise this one." he said as he laid his hand on my flat stomach.

"James," I said as I tightened my legs around his waist, and put my hands atop his on my belly. "Do you honestly think that after everything we've been through together, after losing a child and then getting pregnant again, I would leave you?" I asked quietly.

He stared at me hopefully as his eyes lit up, and he started to tremble.

"Do you really have so little faith in me, James? Didn't I show you, just a few nights ago, how much I love you? Don't I show you every day? Every night that I reach for you? Aren't I showing you now?" I made sure my passion showed in my voice as I pulled him closer with my legs.

He looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't doubt you. You're…better than I deserve." he whispered.

I smiled and repeated his words from earlier. "Don't say that. Don't even think that." I stroked his face as I spoke. "Come closer."

He did so without hesitation, and shamelessly rested his head very low on my chest.

"Sleep." I whispered. "Go to sleep. You can rest assured." I smiled as I lulled him to sleep.

As I laid there holding my sleeping husband, I relaxed for the first time in what seemed like months. I had my answer. I belonged, I would just have to be very cautious. I closed my eyes, and James's breathing became my lullaby.

**HEY!! WOOHOO!! OVER HERE!! I'm very sorry for the long delay in updating! I got a bit of writer's block, and I've been busy with keeping my grades up. Life got a bit hectic, too. (Sigh) Anyway. Again, sorry it took so long. Please review! Thanks!**


	13. A French Lullaby

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Isabella Swann, or Ambassador Alexander Swann, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

The docks were quiet, and contained few people when we finally reached Port Royal. They also had a rather dark, somber look to them as well, due to the overcast sky.

Theodore escorted me quietly down the gangplank as James carried Oliver in front of me. "Do you want me to come with you?" Theodore asked quietly.

I looked up at him, and gave him a halfhearted smile. "No. You have things here that require your attention."

He nodded. "Alright. I'll send for Abigail to help you with the boy."

"You don't have to…" I started.

"Yes," he interrupted. "I'll send for her. She can do you a lot of help. Trust me on that." he smiled.

"Alright." I nodded weakly. "Would you send for Isabella, and Alexander, as well?"

"Certainly. You'd better go now. James is waiting for you. I'll come as soon as I can." That said, he kissed my temple and turned away.

There was a carriage waiting when I turned to face James, who was still holding our sickly Oliver. The carriage was all black. Black wooden wheels, black trim, black curtains for privacy. The cab driver was wearing all black, as well. Black tricorn, black coat and waistcoat, and black boots. The horse pulling the carriage was even a dark shade of black!

It looked as though we were preparing to go to a funeral. I hesitated as the cab driver opened the door. I didn't want to go in…I didn't want Oliver in there, either.

"Are you alright?" James asked quietly.

I stood away from the carriage and looked it, and its driver over again. Dejectedly, I shook my head. It's not as though I had a choice in the matter, anyway. I climbed into the dark carriage with a heavy sigh, and sat stiffly on the hard leather seat. James climbed in and sat in the same manner next to me, and eased Oliver on both of our laps.

Oliver laid there limply, making no attempt to move. A mixture of sweat and tears traveled awkwardly across his temples, and into his hair. He always seemed to be sweaty, and two weeks ago he'd started the silent crying. His skin had a bit of his normal shade returned, but not enough to not make him look pale, and feverish. He still had the purple knots on his torso, and some even on his legs, arms, and neck. But, they had shrunk in size, and didn't appear quite so swollen.

His eyes flicked to my own lazily, and I couldn't help but feel even more pity for him. His beautiful, grayish eyes were still a bit fogged over with purple haze, and were lined with a sick shade of red that made his eyes seem to jump out against his pallid skin.

"How do you feel?" I asked quietly, stroking his hair.

His eyes closed, and his head lolled to the left. "Queasy." he breathed.

I looked to James, who was already looking at me with grieved eyes. He reached over and took my free hand in his large, calloused one, and squeezed it lightly.

"What will they say?" I whispered.

He furrowed his brows.

"I asked Theodore to send for Alexander and Isabella. He's sending Abigail to us as well." I explained. "What will they think?"

"I'm sure they'll do what they can to help." he answered honestly. "They're good people, dear. You don't have to worry."

I gave him a weak smile as I turned my attention back to Oliver, who had fallen into an uneasy sleep. "I know."

* * *

"Master Norrington, you have visitors."

The voice of one of the house maids snapped me out my trance. I looked up from the fire cracking away in my study's hearth, and stood. "Thank you, Jane. You may send them in."

"Yes, sir." she answered as she curtseyed.

A few moments later, a very worried, flustered-looking Isabella entered the room, followed by Alexander, and Theodore's fiancée, Abigail. They all stood for a moment and drank me in. I'm very certain that I looked like an absolutely bloody mess. I'd hardly had the time to brush my hair, or scrub my dirt and grime covered skin. My cloths were in the same condition, and my feet were bare of stockings and shoes.

Despite all of this, Isabella rushed forward and wrapped her arms around my scraggy torso. "James!" she whispered. "I'd feared the worst!"

I wrapped my arms around her both in comfort and relief. I was actually quite happy to see her…to see her gleaming brown eyes, even though were distraught. The sight of one of my closest friends…the sight of someone I secretly called my sister, was very comforting to me.

She drew her head back slightly, but kept her arms wrapped about me. "Are you alright?"

I offered her a soft smile. "As far as alright goes."

Despite my efforts, the worry remained in her eyes as she kissed both of my cheeks, then stepped away for the others to greet me.

"We came as soon we heard! We were very relieved to hear that you'd made it back safely." Alexander said, grasping my shoulder firmly.

I nodded my thanks to him weakly. I was very tired, after all.

Abigail, who had very light brown hair and eyes, was the next to step up. She kissed me on the cheek before pulling into a tight embrace, just as Isabella had. She didn't say anything, but her emotion-filled eyes said everything, and she knew it. There was no need for her to speak.

I smiled softly at her, too, and squeezed her shoulders. "We're alright. You can relax, Abigail."

"Speaking of 'we', where is Chrissy?" Isabella broke in quietly.

I sighed. "She's upstairs, with the boy. She's been up there since we arrived."

"The sailor had mentioned a boy." Alexander said. "Who is he, may I ask?"

Abigail released me as I went to sit back down in front of the fire. The others followed suit.

"His name is Oliver Beckett." I stated bluntly.

The three people in the room with me froze. I thought I heard Isabella and Abigail gasp.

"Beckett…as in…Lord Cutler Beckett?" Abigail asked in a small voice.

I nodded. "He's his son…But he's nothing like him, I give you my word!" I rushed. A sigh passed my lips as I looked into the fire. I started again in a far-off voice as the horrid memories came back. "When we were so brutally dragged aboard Davis's ship, he came to our cell the very night we'd been tortured, carrying food for the both of us. The deal was that only Chrissy would be fed, if I would blindly take whichever form of torture Davis chose to use." I paused here to look each and every one of them in the eyes. "He risked his own safety to ensure both of us were fed. He also brought more food than was intended for Chrissy because he knew the baby was in dire need of nourishment."

"The baby?" Isabella asked. "Had the baby been born already?"

I shook my head. "No. We hadn't been fed for days when my crew mutinied. Therefore, the baby hadn't been fed either. Anyway…he was caught one morning bringing more than he was supposed to. Chrissy told the captain that she'd persuaded the lad to bring us the extra food. Davis knew he couldn't inflict physical harm on her because of the baby, so he punished both me and the boy, which was mental punish for her. That only brought us all closer."

I stopped and closed my eyes for a moment, dreading having to tell the next part. "When we reached land, my wife was showing signs that the baby was to be born very, very soon. It wouldn't have mattered to any of the crew, however, because we'd been brought to the island to be killed. So, the next morning, we were led to a very tall, steep hill. Davis asked Chrissy if she had any last words. She took a deep breath and screamed at him with the full force of her voice, and lunged at him!"

"She did pretty good at first. She'd caught him around the neck with both hands, and was doing a good job strangling him. I was too shocked to try to jump in and help, it happened so fast." I stopped once again, and covered my face with both of my hands. This would be the hardest to tell. "Before she could finish him off, she was grabbed by several of the crew and thrown over the edge. Without a second though, I jumped over after her. I did what I could!"

It was here that my voice revealed the lump in my throat. I'd buried this memory away, hoping never to drag it up again. "I simply couldn't save it!" I'd switched to whispering, trying to hide the lump. "The fall had killed the baby. Oliver had helped me in delivering it, and not until my small boy was in my arms did I know he was dead. After that, Oliver became very close to us…Like a son. That's how Chrissy refers to him, as her son."

I decided to look up at them then, trying to show them how absolutely serious I was. "That is why I must stress it to you…We must do whatever we can to nurse him back to health. We must save him!" I whispered. "We'd also like to ask you, Alexander, if you would help us in the task of changing his last name to our own. We'd like to adopt him…legally…as our own."

He nodded, understanding and sympathy filling his warm, deep brown eyes. "I'll do everything in my power."

It was only then that I realized Isabella, who was sitting beside me, was in tears. "I'm so sorry about your baby!" she whispered. "I can only imagine how she feels about this."

I nodded my head in thanks, before changing the subject. "Let's go see how Oliver is doing, shall we? Chrissy's been with him for hours, and may need a break."

* * *

I continued tearing the red part of the quill plant from the stem, as I had been for hours. I had to get enough juice from them for Oliver to drink, and it was a long and tiring task. When I thought I'd torn enough of the plants, I put them in a bowl and began grinding them.

Oliver lay on the bed before me, his cloths having been removed, and a towel draped over his most private area. Having no cloths on revealed that his body was completely covered in sweat, and his skin was now colored a reddish shade from the neck down from being rubbed with but one of the plants.

"Almost finished, Oliver. Just a few more moments." I said quietly.

Oliver only flinched at the sound of my voice. I'd forgotten that even the quietest of sounds sounded very loud in Oliver's ears.

With a sigh, I poured the mixture into the glass beside me, and I tilted Oliver's head up a bit so he could drink. I gently pressed the cup to his lips, but as soon as the scarlet liquid touched his tongue, he immediately spit most of it back into the glass. The excess liquid that didn't make it back into the glass dribbled down his chin, and some onto his neck.

"Oliver!" I mumbled in annoyance, and at the fact that this was the second time he'd spit it back out. "You must drink it, Oliver!"

"I already drank it." he whined.

"Once isn't enough. You need at least two glasses to make the skin irritation go away. Trust me on this, Oliver. I know how you feel, and believe me when I say this will help." I soothed.

"Alright." he whispered. "Try again."

Without hesitation, I pushed the glass against his lower lip again and tipped it. He drank quickly, trying to get it over with, and the glass was drained in no time.

"Awful!" he choked. "How would you manage to drink that?"

I smirked. "I didn't say it was very easy. I also warned you that it wouldn't taste good."

My smirk left as quickly as it had come, it disappeared. He looked so frail, so vulnerable as he laid there naked, sweaty, and pale. I grabbed a wet rag and wiped the plant juice from his chin and neck, then proceeded in dabbing his forehead with the cool cloth. Not until I heard a small sneeze from the doorway did I realize I had an audience.

James, Alexander, Abigail, and Isabella were all standing there, just watching me. Judging by her expression, it must have been Abigail that had sneezed. She smiled kindly at me and walked to me.

"What is wrong with him? What can I do to help?" she asked quietly as she put one of her small hands on my shoulder.

"He's been bitten by many venomous spiders." I whispered so Oliver couldn't hear. "There really isn't much we can do. Just dab his forehead with a wet cloth and rub his skin with this red plant, here. Just this one. After it's been used on his skin, I don't want him to drink the juice from it. The other plants, however, can be used for him to drink."

She nodded, showing she was understanding so far.

"If he starts to complain of stinging or itch, give him some of the liquid. These plants are very thick, so you can use one several times for liquid. Make sure it's completely drained of any liquid before you grind another, I must stress that to you. These can't be found anywhere on this island…I already looked a long time ago. You can do all of this while I check for anything I've missed." I finished.

"Uhm…I think James wants you to take a break. He said you've been up here for awhile." she told me softly.

I looked from her to Oliver, then from Oliver to James, then back to Oliver. I didn't want to just leave him with someone he didn't know! My poor son…

"Come along." James whispered. "I assure you, he's in good hands. You need to relax for a bit." he said as he grabbed me lightly beneath the arms. "He'll be fine."

"But…he…he can't see!" I whispered back. "He'll panic!"

"He'll be alright, darling. Please, come with me." he pleaded. "_I_ need you for a while."

There was something in James's voice that made me cave in…that made me believe he truly needed me with him now. I stood and laced my fingers between his, and walked slowly for the doorway. As soon as I heard the door close, I wrapped my arms around James's neck just as he wrapped his around my waist.

"I…I don't know if he'll make it!" I choked. "He's so weak!"

I was so upset, I didn't even realize he'd carried me down the stairs.

"It'll be alright." he said tiredly. "He's made it this far."

"I-I don't know." I sobbed.

I was vaguely aware that James had sat down in front of a fire, and had eased me between his sprawled legs. Alexander and Isabella were sitting not far from us, looking on sympathetically. At least, I think they were. It was a bit hard to tell with tears blurring my view.

"He has to make it…" I whispered. "My son…my son…"

"Shh…It's going to be alright." James soothed. "Like I said, he's made it this far. Shh…"

"I can't…I can't lose him…" I breathed. "I couldn't…live with myself…if…if…" My sobs wouldn't allow me to finish.

I could barely feel James rocking me, cradling me like a small child on his lap. One of his arms wrapped comfortingly and protectively around my waist, while his free hand rubbed my back in long, slow strokes. His lips pressed to mine in a short, but assuring kiss. It didn't last long enough.

"Master Norrington, Miss Redwood is in need of your assistance." Came a quiet voice from the doorway.

James stood with me still in his arms, but I felt him reluctantly set me back down again. I was confused to feel someone else's arms around me as James's footsteps began to fade. When I looked up, soft, comforting hands wiped my tears away for a few seconds. James had set me on the settee between Alexander and Isabella. Alexander had his arms around me in a fatherly embrace, and Isabella was stroking the back of my head as though I was a toddler. Both were looking at me with sympathy.

"James told us everything that happened…I'm so sorry, Chrissy." Alexander whispered.

Isabella nodded in agreement. "We're here for you, cherie. We're at your disposal."

I eyed the two quickly as another round of tears began making their way down my cheeks. Alexander pulled me tighter against him as I tucked my head beneath his chin, and Isabella began rubbing my back. Both of them continued to whisper comforts to me, and did their best in trying to get me to fall asleep.

I sighed as I tried to calm myself. Alexander's arms were like a safe haven, and Isabella's ability to speak fluently in French was like a lullaby. I actually found myself becoming quite tired! I'd been attacked by pirates, my family had been tortured by them, I'd lost a child, and my adopted son looked to be on the verge of death, yet I found myself falling asleep!

"I'm so tired…" I mumbled.

"You've been through very much over the course of a few months." Alexander said in that calming tone of his. "Go to sleep, you deserve it."

I fought against my drooping eyelids. "I can't! I need to help…" I tried to get up, but my body wouldn't allow me. Oh, how very heavy my body felt to my legs!

"No, you must rest." Alexander soothed. "He's being taken care of, there's need to worry. Rest now, sweetheart."

I found myself being shifted until I was lying down, with my head in Alexander's lap, and my legs atop Isabella's.

"But…I must…" My speech was becoming slurred with my exhaustion.

"Hush now, cherie." Isabella whispered as she stroked the top of one of my hands. "Repos, mon ami. R'eve sucr'e r'everies." (Rest, my friend. Dream sweet dreams.)

My eyelids felt so heavy…

She began to sing softly in French. The tone she sang with was very light, clear, and soothing. Her notes seamed to wrap around me like a soft, warm blanket. Even though I couldn't understand her words, they comforted me, and I found myself being lulled to sleep. I tried to fight the drousiness, tried to stay awake, but the song was simply too calming, and beautiful. I allowed my eyes to close. Isabella continued to sing. Alexander began to rub my shoulders. I allowed myself to yawn. Isabella's tone grew softer, more gentle.

The last thing I heard was James's voice. "Good night, darling."

**HEY!! About the part written in French...I'm sorry if I messed it up really bad. I couldn't figure out how to put the correct symbols in the correct place, so I improvised. I apologize to anyone who speaks French or is French that is reading this if I messed it up pretty bad! I really admire the language, I'm just not used to using it! Also, I apologize for taking so long to update. I've been very busy, and life got a bit complicated. So, there you have it! Please review! Thanks! **


	14. A Bittersweet Run

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Isabella Swann, Ambassador Alexander Swann, or Count Phillip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

My stomach was cramping. Again. First thing in the morning, for a week now, I've woken with horrible stomach aches. A groan escaped my throat as I sat up, and I hunched over and put my arm over my stomach.

"James…" I groaned. "James, wake up." I shook his shoulder as hard as I could without being rough.

"What is it?" he mumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes or move.

"I…need a…chamber pot." I choked. "I'm going…to be…sick…"

In a heartbeat, James was out of the bed and looking for the object I'd requested. I, on the other hand, was doing my best to get out of bed without heaving all over the sheets.

"Here, darling. Easy…" he soothed as he helped me get to my knees.

I hunched over again, and just as I did, I lost it. My body lurched violently while I tried to keep my face in the bucket, and it was all I could do to try to keep from falling over. A steady hand grabbed my shoulders, keeping me upright. This hand soon became comforting and soothing as it began to stroke my shoulders while my little sickness continued.

"Th-that's the…fifth time th-this week." I panted after I finished. "I think it's safe to assume…that I'm with…child…a-again."

James sighed as he pulled me sideways between his legs and against him, then pressed a kiss to my temple. "I agree." he mumbled. "I think you should get back in bed, too."

I gently pulled away from his chest, and looked him in the eyes. "But, I need to take care of…"

"Oliver is going to be fine, darling. His health has improved, and Abigail has done a wonderful job looking after him. She'll understand."

I sighed as I stared into his light green eyes. There was a lot of sorrow and determination there. There was no getting around him on this command. "Help me to the bed." I mumbled.

With a smile, James lifted me from the floor and placed me gently on the mattress, then eased himself down behind me as I rolled over on my side. His strong arms wrapped around me as I settled beneath the sheets with a small cry. Another groan passed my lips when James sat up, causing the bed to shift slightly. I then felt myself being turned over on my back, and my limbs were uncurled from against my stomach.

"What _are _you doing?" I moaned when the pain seemed to intensify.

James didn't answer me, but pushed the sheets away and pushed my shirt up to the point that only my chest and shoulders were covered. He then laid his hand flat on my stomach, and began rubbing in big, slow circles across every inch of exposed belly.

"Is that better?' he asked.

I closed my eyes and allowed my head to loll to the left, in his direction, while I tried to focus on his hand rather than my pain.

"You don't know how much I wish I could take your place." he said softly.

I chuckled. "You wish to be a pregnant woman?" I teased.

"No!" he answered quickly. "I meant…I wish I could be in pain for you." he mumbled. "I'm not good at saying things like that."

I laughed softly, reaching for his face. My hand was enveloped in his free hand, and I felt a lingering kiss press to it. I smiled. This was how things were supposed to be. I could just picture a small child running in to the room, and interrupting a conversation we were having by leaping between us on the bed.

"What is it?" he chuckled.

"I was picturing our child."

I opened my eyes and looked into his, and found them soft, and swimming with love and pride. He leaned down and placed a light kiss on my forehead, then continued rubbing my belly as he laid down beside me. "What are we going to name him?" he asked.

"We're going to name _her _Grace, or Melody." I chuckled.

James propped himself up on his elbow with a playful look in his eyes. "How do you know it will be a girl? What if we have a boy?"

"I just think our child will be a girl. But, if it turns out to be a boy, he will be named after his father."

A slight smile pulled at the corners of his lips, and he leaned down and kissed me, and then placed light kisses on my belly. When he was finished, he eased himself beside me again, and tucked my head beneath his chin in a loving manner.

"I feel much better now." I whispered, pulling my shirt down over my belly.

"Good." he smiled.

I laughed. "I would like to check on Oliver, now."

"No. You need rest." he began to stroke my front again.

"I've had plenty of rest!" I whined. "I slept _all _night, and would really like to get out of this bed."

"No." he said a bit more seriously.

I turned over this time to look at him. "James…"

"No, Mrs. Norrington." he said firmly.

Mrs. Norrington. Any time he used my formal title, there was no changing his mind.

"Fine." I grumbled.

"That's a good girl." he cooed.

* * *

He'd fallen fast asleep. I'd laid in bed long enough that he'd nodded off. Now was my chance. I slowly pulled James's arms from around me and eased myself away from him, and off of the mattress. He barely stirred. I chuckled, smiling at my stealthiest. I was free! I tiptoed to the door and shut it quietly behind me. I couldn't believe my luck!

"Where are you going?" A quiet voice asked from behind me.

I cursed under my breath, and slowly turned around.

"You know, that really isn't proper language for the wife of one of the most well-known men on land and sea." My brother, Theodore, stated with a smile.

"Shh!" I hissed. "You'll wake him up!"

"And why are you sneaking away from your husband?" he asked suspiciously.

I slouched, then sighed. "Ever since we lost the baby, James has been more protective than he used to be." I motioned for him to come closer, which he did. "I'm with child again, and if you breathe a word of that to anyone, you may not live to see your niece or nephew!" I added quickly.

He smiled. "Where are you trying to sneak off to?"

"I just want out of the house for an hour, or two. I was going to take one of the horses out for a little while, down to the shore. Please, Theodore! Please let me do this!" I begged in a whisper.

It was Theodore's turn to sigh. "You know he won't be happy if he finds out."

I nodded. "I know. But I've got to get out of this house! I haven't been outside in days!"

After a few moments, he gave out a heavier sigh. "My horse is saddled, and in your stables. Just ask the stable hand for him."

It was all I could do to keep from jumping up and down with excitement! "Thank you, Theodore! Thank you!" I whispered happily.

"Just…" he started. "Please be careful. If anything happens to you, James will _never _forgive me, and neither will I."

"I smiled. "You have _nothing _to worry about."

* * *

"John, could you please bring me Theodore's horse?"

"Yes, Mrs. Norrington."

I stood nervously in the entrance of the stables, just waiting for James to storm out of the manor. I love my husband more than words can express, but when it comes to protection, he can be absolutely ridiculous! I just wanted out of the house for a bit.

"Your horse, Mrs. Norrington. I took the liberty of adjusting the stirrups for you."

"Thank you, John." I said quietly as he handed me the reins.

I quickly climbed up and into the saddle, and gently nudged the midnight-black stallion into a canter. The cool afternoon air kissed my face and blew hair back, causing me to smile. I didn't care that the wind was causing bumps to appear on my skin, or that it was sending shivers down my spine. It felt wonderful. I nudged the stallion harder, and harder, until we were going at a full gallop. The sheer speed and power of the animal took my breath away, and for once, I felt as though I was flying!

An eruption of laughter burst from my lungs as the horse's hooves hit the sand of the shore, and water splashed up and soaked us both. I let out a shout of joy as the horse ran through waves that came nearly past his legs, and leapt over a few fallen logs.

Not until my breath and the horse's became labored did I pull back on the reins, bringing us to a sudden stop. I then dismounted, and allowed the horse to rest. I sat in the sand and listened to the waves as they crawled up on the shore, and nipped at my bare feet and ankles. It was so quiet. No bustling footsteps of house staff, no clanging dishes as dinner was prepared.

The only thing that felt wrong was that James wasn't here to share this with me. Sure, I wanted to be alone. It was alright for the first few minutes of that thrilling ride through the waves, through all of the excitement. But then, after I sat still for a few moments, and reined my mind back in, I found that I was missing my husband. The sound of his breathing, the occasional feel of his lips brushing against the skin of my nape, and his arms wound tightly about my waist as we gazed at the sea. This all felt very wrong without him.

I sighed and laid back in the sand. Why was everything so confusing?! I'd wanted to be free, away from the confines of my home, but after I got my wish, I wanted to go back! I growled and closed my eyes, only to be interrupted by Theodore's horse as his nose roved over my face, and then my belly. I chuckled, and opened my eyes again. Even Theodore's horse seemed to know what was going on.

"Fine." I grumbled at the animal. "We'll go back."

* * *

James was waiting for me on the back porch of the manor when I returned. Just as I pictured, he looked very, very angry with me. I dismounted with my head held low, and walked slowly to him on the porch.

"Where have you been?" he seethed in a dangerously low voice.

"I just went for a ride." I answered casually, trying to stay calm. I'd never seen him this angry with me before.

"I thought I told you to just rest, Chrissy?!" he said a little louder.

My temper flared at his tone. "I've rested enough, _darling._ I'm tired of being inside!"

"I've been keeping you inside for a reason!" he snapped.

"Because you're scared!" I shouted. "I feel like a prisoner in my own home, James! You won't let me take care of Oliver, you won't let me walk about the manor alone, you won't let me outside!" I yelled louder.

"I'm just trying to protect you, and the child!" he yelled back. "If you don't eat, the baby doesn't eat! If you get sick, the baby could get sick, or die! Look at you! You're dripping wet, and out here without shoes, no less!"

"_Protect me_?!" I said incredulously, my voice rising a few octaves. "You're not protecting me, James. You're keeping me prisoner, and I'm tired of it!"

"I'm trying to prevent something from happening again." he growled in that low voice, before he grabbed me by the upper arm and started to pull me inside.

I tore my arm from his grasp and jumped back from the door. "I am _not _going back in there! I've spent enough time being locked up!"

His eyes flashed dangerously as he turned to me. "You _will_ come in, and you _will_ take it easy. We are _not _losing another child." he growled, reaching for me again.

I leapt away from his hands and held my head up in defiance. "You can't just keep me locked up in a house for nine months." I snarled.

He stepped closer, until our noses were nearly touching. "Can't I?" he snapped.

That was it. I'd had it. As soon as the words left his mouth, I did something I had never done before. I slapped him. I slapped him so hard, that the sound of my hand striking his cheek echoed. My hand throbbed from the impact, so I'm certain James's left cheek stung very badly. I could feel my eyes glassing over with tears as I watched James cover his cheek and stare at me in shock. The anger in his eyes disappeared, and in its place, hurt filled them.

I shook my head as I walked backwards toward the horse. Only then did I realize that Alexander, Isabella, Theodore, and Abigail were watching us. I ignored them, and kept my eyes on James. "Do you know why I came back? I felt guilty!" My voice was broken with sadness. "I felt wrong about going off on my own…I actually missed you!" I climbed slowly into the saddle with shaky hands. "You're not the man I married. When he comes back…so will I."

With those words, I turned the horse and galloped away, trying to ignore James crying my name.

**HELLO!! Sorry for the delay in updating. I've begun writing a new story called 'Silence is Cold', which you can find on my profile. School has been a bit stressful too. So, those are my reasons. Anyway, please review! Thanks!**


	15. Concentration

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Count Philip Rochester, Isabella Swann, or Ambassador Alexander Swann, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

Is the master of the house in?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, Mrs. Norrington. You may wait for him in the parlor." The butler said.

"Actually, I think I'll go on to his study, if that's alright?" It came out more like a statement, instead of a question.

"Yes, Mrs. Norrington." he bowed. "I'll tell him you've arrived.

"Thank you." I mumbled.

I sauntered into the manor, and nothing but my clothing dripping water on the floor could be heard. In my haste to get away from my husband, it had begun to rain. If he thought I was wet then, I was certainly wet now.

The sight of a crackling fire in Alexander's study was a very welcoming sight indeed. I sat myself down on the brick hearth, welcoming the warmth to my clothing and skin, and looked about the office. There were wooden crates everywhere, and most of the books had been removed from the shelves, and packed away.

"I know. It's a mess, isn't it?" Alexander asked from the doorway of the study.

I offered him a fake smile. "So you are moving out?" A sad note lingered in my voice, and I wondered if I still had tears streaming down my wet face.

"I'm just moving a few miles away from here. This _is _my wedding gift to Isabella and Philip, after all." he smiled. "I've grown a bit weary of this large house anyway. You've seen my new home. It is much smaller than this place."

I nodded. "It will be nice for you. James and I will come…" I stopped, realizing what I'd said, then choked out the rest of the sentence. "To see you."

"Mhm." he nodded. "I was wondering when we would get around to it. I actually expected you to get here much earlier than this. You let me down, dear." he jested lightly.

I offered a chuckle. No. It was too sorry to even be related to laughter. It was more like a short sob. "I apologize. I haven't done anything right, lately."

A light sigh escaped Alexander's lips, and he took a seat on the settee in front of me. "You know that's not true." he soothed. "He was just trying to protect you, and the child."

I laughed humorlessly. "No, Alexander. He was keeping me prisoner. He was being protective _at first._ But then, " My voice began to grow weaker. "Then he wouldn't let me go out to feed or groom the horses, and then he wouldn't let me outside at all. It got to the point that he wouldn't even let me take care of Oliver." I lifted my somber eyes to him. "It felt like I wasn't the love of his life anymore, Alexander! It felt like I was just someone carrying his heir."

He thought for a moment. "Did you ever tell him that?"

I was taken aback for a moment. I shook my head slowly. "No…I didn't. I thought my actions showed him how I felt."

He smiled. "He's just a man, dear. He picks up on a lot of things, I'm certain, but not everything! If you don't tell him how you feel, he can't correct his mistakes."

I frowned. "You make it sound like it's all my fault."

"_Part _of it is your fault." he said seriously.

"Oh, I feel much better." I snapped.

He chuckled. "I'm just telling you the truth. There was wrong done on his side, and wrong done on your side."

I furrowed my brows at him. "Tell me, please."

"Well, he took it too far, until it wasn't just protection anymore. You didn't sit him down to talk about it, did you? There was wrong done on both parts." he finished, a satisfied look in his eyes.

"I…never thought of it like that." I mumbled. "Thank you, Alexander."

He nodded. "Not a problem."

"But," I started, interrupting what he was starting to say. "I'm not going back…yet. I want to teach him something from this. May I stay here? I promise, I won't make a sound, or cause any trouble."

He gave me a soft smile. "Yes, you may stay. Just…don't drag him too far. You know how he gets."

I nodded. "Thank you, Alexander I appreciate this."

* * *

_The Next Day..._

"James, please sit down! You're going to wear yourself out!" Isabella said quietly.

But what you don't know, dear Isabella, is that I'm already worn out. My mind hasn't stopped reeling for twenty-four hours, ever since my wife rode away, taking my beating heart with her. I haven't eaten, I haven't slept. I'm exhausted. Yet, I haven't stopped pacing.

"James? James, please, you need rest!" she said, tugging my arm, pulling me with all her strength to a stop.

"She left me." I breathed. "She promised me she wouldn't."

'_Look at yourself, man.' _I thought to myself. _'Your hair is a mess, you've not changed cloths since yesterday, and tears are threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. You're a bloody mess.' _I scolded.

"She hasn't left you!" Isabella fussed. "She just wants a little time to herself. She'll come back!" she put her hands on my cheeks, forcing me to look at her. "She probably went to father's house, James. There's nothing to worry about."

Alexander. Why hadn't I thought of that? I turned away from her, slipping out of her grasp as I made for the front door in haste.

"James! Don't you dare! Come back here, now!" Isabella called after me.

I was almost there. Just a few more steps, and I could run to her. But it wasn't meant to be. Two pairs of strong hands grabbed me by the upper arms, and around my waist.

"No!" I growled. "I must find her!"

I strained, thrashed, and pulled against the people holding me back. They were talking to me, but I wasn't listening. There was only one person I wanted to hear, and her voice wasn't one of the ones yelling at me. The door was getting further and further away, as was the floor. I was being dragged up the stars to our bedroom. I thrashed, and strained again and again, but the tight grips only grew tighter, and held strong.

I soon found myself being flung onto our bed, and my arms and legs were pinned down. Her scent filled my nostrils, which caused me to flail and fight even more.

"Admiral Norrington! You must calm down!" It was Count Philip Rochester, Isabella's husband's voice. "You can't leave this house until you do! Steady, man, steady!"

I was growing weaker. Her scent was intoxicating, and was slowing me down. Finally, out of exhaustion, I collapsed completely on our mattress. My breath was labored, and I had to fight to keep my eyes from closing. I was so tired…

"I believe you can release him now, gentlemen." Came Isabella's voice.

"Isabella, I don't think…"

Ah. So Theodore was the one aiding Rochester in his task.

"It's perfectly alright, Theodore. You may release him. Look, he's too exhausted to go anywhere else. Run along." she prompted.

I felt the tight grips reluctantly release their holds on my limbs, and the weight on the mattress slowly shifted.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Mrs. Rochester." Philip mumbled, while Theodore continued walking until he was no longer in the room.

I watched quietly as Isabella stood up on her toes, and placed a light kiss upon his lips. "There is but one man for me." she whispered. "You can trust me." she then leaned up to say something in his ear; something that couldn't be heard from my position.

It must have been something convincing, for Philip nodded, stroked her cheek, and then closed the door behind him when he left the room.

"You do realize that you're in a married man's bedroom without an escort, or you husband." I mumbled.

"I know." she said quietly. "I'm willing to bend the rules of society to help a dear friend…that is like a brother to me."

"What is there to help?" I said hopelessly. "My love has left me."

"She hasn't left you, James." she sighed as she eased herself on the edge of the bed. "She's just taking some time to herself. If I may say…" she started slowly. "You were being a bit unreasonable."

I sat up, and looked her directly in the eyes. "What do you know about marriage?" I growled. "I've been married for over a year. You've only been married for a few months. You know _nothing._"

I could tell that my words had stung, but Isabella kept her composure. "I've been married long enough to know that spouses have boundaries that you shouldn't cross, and you've crossed one, James." she said bravely.

I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. My temper was rising. "I was only protecting the child. You don't know what it's like, Bella, to see something beautiful blossoming, growing inside your loved one for months and months, and then to all of a sudden have it taken away from you. You haven't been through the pain, and heartache of knowing that person will never be the same again, and you have to do anything you can to try to please this person."

Isabella chuckled humorlessly. "I can tell you now that what you did wasn't pleasing at all!"

I stood up. "How dare…"

"Look at yourself!" she interrupted, standing as well. "You think it makes you look like a big man to take away your wife's rights, and to cross her boundaries, but it doesn't! It makes you look like a selfish, callous, bully!" she shouted. "I'm beginning to believe the gossip floating around town, as well." she said a little more quietly. "That you care nothing for Chrissy…just the baby she's carrying."

Her words hit me like a slap in the face. That's what people were saying? That's what Isabella was beginning to believe? I usually wouldn't care what people thought about me. But something like that?

Isabella nodded slowly. "I see I've caught your attention."

* * *

_The Day After…_

I woke to a sunny day, as I had yesterday. Why must the weather be so bright during such a somber time? I sighed, and sat up as I kicked the sheets off of me. My stomach protested to my standing up, but I embraced the pain. I shouldn't be feeling good about anything.

I sauntered to the oak chest that contained my things from the time that James and I had lived here, and grabbed a brush. It ran through my hair smoothly, as thought I'd been brushing it everyday, instead of neglecting it. I tossed the brush back in the chest with a sigh, and tied my hair back with a deep, green ribbon.

Green. I laughed humorlessly at the irony when his eyes showed up in my mind's eye. So green, loving, and…apologetic? I shook my head, and began to pick my cloths up off the floor. I'd been feeling so sick last night that in my haste to get in bed, I'd thrown of my cloths and hadn't bothered to put on a nightgown.

I bent over, but when I began to pick up my shirt, a wave of nausea came over me, and I had a sudden urge to lay down. I glanced about the room, making sure all of the drapes were shut. The dim room wasn't going to get any darker.

"I must speak with her!" Came a voice from just outside my door.

I froze. That was James's voice!

"I'm not certain she's ready to speak with you." Alexander answered. "I'm not even certain she's awake!"

I made my way to the bed as quickly as I could, and pulled the sheets up to my neck as I laid on my side,.

"I'll find out soon enough." James said quietly.

I thought I heard Alexander sigh. "Alright. I'll be waiting in my study."

A few minutes later, the door opened, and James walked lightly into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. His footsteps drew closer, and closer, until he was finally sitting on the edge of the bed. I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.

I felt the backs of his fingers lightly stroking my cheek, and then my nape. I think it was then that he realized my shoulders were bare, and he pushed the sheets down slightly and began placing kisses on the exposed skin. I had to work harder than usual not to move. His warm breath tickled my neck, and was followed by the tip of his nose tracing that area.

"I'm so sorry." he whispered.

'_You should be.'_ I thought.

"I realize that I was being completely unreasonable…and I'm sorry it had to take you leaving for a few days for me to see it."

He gently rolled me over onto my stomach, and pushed the sheets down to the small of my back. His warm breath tickled my skin once more, and I really struggled not to move as he placed kisses all the way down my spine. Once he reached the small of my back, he started to work his way back up, nipping and even licking by the time he made it back to my shoulders.

"I'm a fool." he whispered.

His hand traveled slowly down my back, and paused slightly before venturing below the sheets, not stopping until he reached the backs of my legs.

"James…" I whispered, before I could stop myself.

His hand faltered on its way back up, and I wondered if he knew I was awake. I guess he decided I was dreaming, for he allowed his hand to wander again after a few moments.

"I need you." he said softly, rolling me over on my back.

His lips were lingering just above mine, for I could feel the flow of air from his nose hitting the skin next to mine.

"Please come home." he mumbled, claiming my upper lip.

It took every bit of concentration I had not to move, not to respond. He was being so taunting! His lips tasted sweeter than any fruit I'd eaten in the few days I'd been here, and his tongue brought me comforts that I'd been missing dearly. He used just a bit more force as the kiss progressed, and his hand rubbed my belly. A low groan escaped my throat.

He pulled away slowly, and placed a light kiss on my lips, and then a lingering one on my forehead, before pulling the sheets to my neck.

"I love you." he whispered against my temple.

The weight on the bed shifted, and his footsteps grew farther away. Dread filled me when I heard the door open, and then close again. He was gone. I opened my eyes as the tears leaked out, and I wondered if I should go after him.

**HELLO!! Sorry about taking so long to update. Things got a little busy, what with school, band, and violin practice. Anyway, please review! Thanks!**


	16. Suicide

**I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does! I only own the characters that weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Isabella Swann, Ambassador Alexander Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.**

* * *

Another week had passed, and still no Chrissy. I'd gone early in the mornings, only to find her sleeping in the late hours of the early day. I've tried around the afternoon, only to find Isabella, telling me that my wife was feeling ill, and didn't want company. Even at night, and not even very late, she'd retired to bed early! It's as though she's cut off all communication with me!

I glared into the fire, trying to think of a time I could possibly call on my wife. A heavy sigh passed my lips, and I looked down at my uniform. Yes, I'd gone back to Fort Charles and claimed my job back, after showing that I am, in fact, alive. I had nothing else to do, and I feared that if I didn't keep my mind busy, I would surely go mad.

"Your tea, sir." My maid, Jane, said quietly as she set the tray on the tea table near the settee.

"thank you, Jane. You're dismissed." I mumbled.

"Yes, sir." she curtsied.

I drank my tea quickly, not caring that the hot liquid was scorching my mouth and throat. I embraced the pain.

"Master Norrington." Came a small voice.

I looked up slowly, and found Jane standing a few feet away. "Yes, Jane?" I asked quietly.

"Well, sir, we, meaning the house staff and I, have noticed that this entire ordeal has put you in a very foul mood over the past two weeks." she said quietly, with a lot of nervousness in her voice.

"Yes..?" I said suspiciously.

"Well…sir…we got to talking about it…and…" she stopped, seemingly too scared to continue.

"Go on, Jane. What is it?" I prompted her patiently.

"Well, we got to talking about it, and came to the conclusion that maybe…perhaps, if you pretended to be injured, it would scare Mrs. Norrington back to you." she finished in a near whisper.

I stared at the young maid, searching her eyes for any hint of a jest. "That's absurd." I growled. "I don't hanve to lie to get my wife back."

She hung her head. "I apologize, sir. It's not my place."

Again, I sat and stared quietly at the young maid. She had only just turned thirteen in the month prior. She'd been abandoned when very little. One of the my older maids had found her, a little girl, begging on the street. Naturally, the woman's heart went out to her, and she brought her to my home, requesting permission to raise and teach her as her own. Not one to just turn a child out on the street, I allowed the maid to raise her.

The child was most likely scared out of her wits about confronting me with the idea, and had gone to great effort to do what she thought was helping. A sigh passed my lips, and I stood. "I apologize, Jan. I realize you went to great effort to tell me this. I did not mean to snap at you." I told her softly.

"Yes, sir." she nodded, still keeping her head ducked down.

I furrowed my brows at her. "Jane, have you eaten breakfast?"

Ah. That caught her attention. She looked up at me, and furrowed her brows. "Beg pardon, sir?"

"Have you eaten breakfast, Jane?" I repeated.

She shook her head slowly. "No, sir. I've not had the time. We've had a lot of cleaning to do."

I offered her a very, very small smile. "Go on and eat, Jane. You must be famished."

She furrowed her brows, and I interrupted her when she began to speak. "You heard right, Jane. Go eat. I can hear your stomach from my position."

She smiled, and curtsied. "thank you, thank you, sir!"

I smiled as she hurried herself out of the study, and on down the hall. The smile disappeared, however, as soon as I was certain I was completely alone. I sauntered over to my desk, and produced a large bottle of brandy from one of its drawers.

'_Fake an injury?' _I thought, taking a large gulp from the bottle.

I winced as the alcohol burned my throat, not helping the burns from the tea. What sort of injury could I possibly fake? A broken leg or arm wouldn't do, Chrissy would see right through that act. A stab injury wouldn't do, either, because she would go to inspect the skin, and would find no wound. I racked my brain for a few minutes more, and took several swigs from the bottle. A crooked grin came to my lips as the alcohol began to set in. I would try pleading with her one more time, and if that didn't work, I would set my plan into motion.

* * *

An empty sigh passed my lips. How much longer was this charade to go on? It seems that every time my husband dares to make a move, I'm asleep! Is he really so cowardly to only visit me in my sleep?!

I looked at myself one more time in the mirror, making sure I looked appropriate before wandering about the grounds. My hair was pulled neatly back, tied with a ribbon at my nape. A creamy shirt kept my upper half covered, and a black pair of breeches donned my lower half.

I walked quietly out of my room, and as I made my way down the staircase, I thought I could hear a commotion coming from the entrance. I padded quickly to the base of the staircase, and found a very drunk and disorderly James Norrington shouting, and putting up quite a fuss with Alexander, and some of the butlers, who were holding him by the arms.

As soon as James spotted me, however, all of his shouting and struggling stopped, and he just stared at me. The butlers and Alexander stared at me too, waiting for my reaction.

"Bring him to my room." I said quietly.

* * *

I sat, brooding away as the butlers deposited my husband on my bed. Did he really think he was proving something, by coming over here drunk?

As soon as the butlers and Alexander left the room, shutting the door firmly behind them, I stood.

James sat up, falling back several times in the process, and tried to speak. "D-darling…"

"What do you think your doing?" I seethed. "Do you think this is helping anything?"

He stared at me silently, and stumbled to his feet. "I…l-let…" he stuttered.

"Exactly!" I snapped. "It's not helping anything!"

His eyes began to glass over. "P-please…I…I didn't…" he seemed at loss for words.

An irritated sigh passed my lips, and I got to him in a few strides. I spun him around, which wasn't difficult in his condition, and took his admiral's coat from his shoulders. I then whirled him back around to face me, and removed his tricorn, wig, weapons, and waistcoat.

"Lay down on the bed, James." I mumbled.

He just stared at me, furrowing his brows in a slow, drunken manner.

Another irritated sigh passed my lips, and I put my hand on his chest. "Lay down, _darling._" I growled, shoving him.

He fell back with a small yelp, his arms flailing as his legs hit the mattress, sending his body crashing down atop it. I took advantage of that moment, and removed his boots.

"I…I'm sorry!" he sniveled.

I didn't say anything, but closed the drapes on the canopy bed; all except the side facing away from the door. I then wet a rag in the wash basin, and eased myself beside him. He studied me fondly with tear-filled, drunken eyes as I laid my hand on his forehead. Just as I'd suspected, his temperature was very high above normal. In fact, his entire body was covered with sweat.

"How did you get here, James?" I asked him as I began dabbing his face with the rag.

"I…w-walked…" he slurred.

"Walked?!" I shrieked. "In this condition? You could have gotten killed!"

"Th-that's…alright." he responded sadly. "I…I'd rather…d-die, than no…h-have you."

I wanted to kiss him, and slap him at the same time. I couldn't move for a few moments, trying to regain my composure. "You're just drunk." I mumbled, running the rag over his left cheek. He winced, and I had to look twice to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. There, on his cheek, was a bruise…shaped like a handprint. I'd left a bruise on his cheek from slapping him!

"James…" I sighed.

"What have I done…n-now?" he mumbled.

"Nothing." I mumbled back. "Just lay still."

I continued to rub his face and neck, using more force than needed trying to make him at least a little sober.

"That hurts." he winced.

"I'm trying to make you sober." I grumbled.

"Stop it!" he growled.

I tossed the rag, and swung my legs on either side of him, landing harshly atop his pelvis. "Incase you haven't noticed, James, I'm not taking orders from you anymore! I'm a very free spirited, hard headed woman, and I won't let you order me around!"

By the time I was finished our noses were touching, and my hands were gripping his shoulders.

He stared at me silently, his eyes glazed over, as though he were in a trance. "I love you." he whispered. "J-just…come b-back." he slurred.

Then, he was out. His head sank back against the mattress, and a light snore escaped his throat. I sighed, and laid down beside him.

* * *

I woke with a throbbing in my head, and an ache in my stomach. Had I really consumed that much brandy? I groaned as I sat up, and the eventually stood. I was very tempted to lay back down, to nurse my throbbing head. But I had a task at hand.

I clumsily pulled my boots and tricorn on, and grabbed my pistol. I had to take my time getting down the staircase, for my vision was still a bit hazy. I hadn't even drank that much brandy! Most of my drunkenness was acting, and I'm surprised my wife hadn't realized it.

"Ah! Good afternoon, James." Alexander greeted me as I stumbled into his study. He then eyes my pistol, and gave me a questionable look. "Is everything…alright?"

I smirked wickedly at him. "I'm going to need some help with a plan."

* * *

"Easy, girl. Easy." I soothed my strawberry roan mare.

I thought I'd heard something moving around in the patch of trees, not far behind us. That's what must have spooked the mare.

"It was probably just a deer." I whispered to her.

The mare kept her ears perked forward, and her brown eyes on the small patch. I sighed, and tied the reins to a low tree branch. She had been a birthday gift from James, and had proved to be a very sturdy horse. She was also one of the prettiest horses in the stables. Her mane and tail were a reddish, pinkish color, and her coat looked to be a faded red. Like I said, she's very sturdy, but she's been acting very skittish as of late.

I decided she wasn't being ridden enough, and turned my gaze to the sea. Just as I though I was beginning to relax, a distant whinny caught my attention. I looked up to find James riding up on a grey mare, uncertainty written across his features. He dismounted quietly, and tied his horse next to mine.

"I want to apologize." he said quietly.

I sighed. "You should."

"Won't you listen to me?" he asked sadly.

"That depends. Is James back in your body?"

"Darling…" he said in in exasperation.

I turned angrily and began to walk away. Why must he be so complicated?

"I'd rather die than not have you." he called.

I froze. Did I hear a pistol being cocked? My greatest fear stood before me when I whirled back around. James's eyes were filled with tears, and a pistol was cocked, and pressed to his temple.

"James?" I whispered.

"I tried!" he cried out. "I'm sorry! I love you!"

A gun shot rang out, and his body fell limply to the lush, grassy ground. Blood spilled over his temple, and stained his clothing, and the grass around his head.

"JAMES!!" I shrieked.

I was at his side in a heartbeat, cradling his head in my arms. "God, what have I done?!" I screamed. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry I put you through what I did. I just wanted to teach you a lesson!" I sobbed. "You just got so protective…it felt like you didn't care about me anymore…just the baby I was carrying. I ust wanted you to learn from this…" I whispered against his bloodied temple.

"Lesson learned." he said quietly.

I fell backwards out of shock. "Wha-…But I…" I stuttered. "I saw you shoot!"

Sitting up, he chuckled. "I didn't. Alexander did, though."

"What?" I whispered.

I heard rustling from the patch of trees, and saw Alexander emerge with a smoking pistol in his right hand.

"B-but…the blood!" I cried, reaching out and wiping some of it off. There was no wound.

"It's just paint, darling." he soothed as he cleaned my fingers off on his shirt.

"How?! Why?!" I yelled, suddenly very angry.

"I can't tell you how." he smiled. "That's a secret between me and Alexander. Now as to why…" his voice grew soft. "I never could find you at the right time. You were either sleeping, or feeling ill. Then I tried to talk to you, and you just walked away. This was the only way I could see to get your attention."

I stood up quickly and turned my back to him, but didn't move otherwise. My heart was pounding hard against my ribs, and I feared it would tear right out of my chest. I heard movement behind me, and then felt a pair of strong hands on my shoulders.

"I thought I'd seen you die right in front of me." I whispered brokenly. "I thought you were…dead." I shuddered on the last word.

"It was all I could think to do." he said softly. "You weren't giving a chance."

He turned me around slowly, and wiped away the tears that were streaming down my cheeks, and some of the paint.

I looked at the fake blood on his temple, and slapped him heard across the left cheek, right on the bruise. "James Norrington, you are the most complicated man I've ever met…and I love you for it." I finished in a whisper, pulling his head down so I could claim his lower lip.

**There you have it! Perhaps now the storm will smooth out between them? Please review! Thanks!**


	17. Broken Glass and Blood

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters that weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Isabella Swann, or Alexander Swann, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

"You realize that you're not completely out of trouble." I said quietly.

We were sitting on the settee in Alexander's study, trying to sort things out. James was laying down, his head in my lap. My hand was running slowly through his hair.

"I know." he mumbled.

"We need to talk."

"Alright." he said, sitting up. "Let's start with why you left me on my knees in the rain."

"Would you like for me to state it bluntly?" I said with a bit of edge in my voice.

"Go on." he replied.

"You were treating me like a child, James! You kept me locked up in the house, and wouldn't let me go anywhere on my own…You scolded me like one, too." I added with a growl.

"I was just…"

"Trying to protect the child, I know. You've said that many times." I interrupted. "But it turned into more than that. You were taking away my rights." I said quietly. "What really made me slap, and leave you in the rain, James, was the fact that you were willing to lock me up for nine months, until the baby was born."

"Why do you keep saying that?!" he growled. "I wasn't keeping you locked up!"

"Yes, you were! Anyone will agree with me! Isabella, Alexander, Abigail, Theodore…Ask any of them. They'll agree with me. You were being so 'protective', James, that I felt like you didn't love me anymore!" My voice grew softer. "I felt like all you cared about was the baby I was carrying, and not about me." I said, standing with my back to him.

He stood as well, and turned me around. He then put his hands on my upper arms, and looked me in the eyes. "Don't ever, ever think I don't love you." he whispered.

I scoffed. "You haven't shown me lately."

"You're being ridiculous!" he cried. "You haven't given me a chance!"

"You've had two weeks of chances!" I snarled. "Not once have you directly apologized! Did you ever consider waking me up? Di you ever think, for all of the times I was ill, you could have just walked right passed Isabella to see me? Did you?" I pressed. "You've woken me many times at night to tell me things, James. Why didn't you do that this time?" I asked in a quiet voice.

He sat back down on the settee, trying to decide what to say as different emotions flitted across his features.

A soft sigh passed my lips, and I knelt down in front of him, and cupped his cheeks in my small hands. "Why?"

He put his hands over mine, and quietly studied my features. "Even if I had done all of those things, I wouldn't have known what to say."

I looked away, then up into his eyes. "You sounded alright…that day you thought I was asleep."

He furrowed his brows. "When was this?"

"You had been arguing with Alexander, just outside my door. You had told him that you must see me, and Alexander said he wasn't sure I was ready to see you. But, you came in my room anyway. Don't you remember?" I said softly. "My clothing was on the floor, and I was naked under the sheets because I'd felt too sick to wear anything. You sat on the edge of the mattress, and caressed my body as you spoke softly to me."

He took his hands from atop mine, and cupped my cheeks as well. "You had spoken my name…"

"Yes." I nodded. "I had to work so hard not to respond to you…I wanted so badly to go after you when you left."

"Why? Why didn't you?" he whispered.

"I…don't know." I replied, ashamed. I stood slowly, and turned away from him. "I…I need time to think." I rushed, running out of the room.

* * *

I put my head in my hands. Was I ever going to get her back? Was this madness ever going to stop?

"James, is everything alright?"

I looked up in confusion at the soft voice. "Isabella?" I asked distantly.

"Yes?" she asked, herself now confused. "Are you alright? I thought I heard shouting?"

I began to massage my temples. "You heard correctly. We were…having a disagreement."

She looked at me sympathetically, and eased herself down on the settee beside me. "Are you two anywhere near making amends?"

I gazed into the fire. "I don't know anymore. It seems that we'll be on the edge of reaching an agreement, and then it all falls through."

"Have you apologized?" she asked.

"Not for anything specific." I admitted.

She nodded. "You could start by apologizing for keeping her cooped up for so long." she suggested.

I glared, but didn't say anything.

"It's true, James. Just start out with what upset her the most, and work your way from there. It will make things a bit easier." she said softly.

I thought for a moment, and then sighed. "I've tried everything else."

Isabella smiled, and started to rub my back. "You'll get her back, I know you will. A dashing man like yourself shouldn't have to work too hard."

"What are you thinking?" I asked in suspicion.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, furrowing her brows.

"I know you, Bella. You've that sly look in your eyes. What are you thinking about?" I smiled.

She smiled as well. "I was just thinking…if apologies don't work…you could try seduction."

My eyes widened, and I stood. "Isabella Rochester, watch your tongue!" It is entirely improper for a woman…a _lady_ of your status, to speak so loosely!"

She snorted, and stood as well. "Come now, James. We've known each other for a long time, and you never scolded me of such things when we courted."

I closed my eyes briefly, before looking at the floor. "That was a different time…You're married now, Isabella! What would your husband think?"

She smirked. "He's the one that loosened my tongue with such speech. Besides, his tactic usually works on me, I'm certain it will work for you."

I just stood and stared at her. Gone was the sweet, careful mouthed Isabella I knew. There stood a cheeky, sly-eyed young woman…with not so clean a tongue.

"I don't know why you're scolding me so, and looking at me with such astonishment, James. I've seen the way you stare at your wife when we're dining, or walking through the gardens as a group. I've seen where your eyes wander, and I know where your mind goes. Philip does the same thing when he thinks I'm not looking. You're not as innocent-minded as you're trying to show. I know you, James Norrington." she smirked.

It took me a few moments to realize my jaw was agape. I closed my mouth, and cleared my throat. "I…I'm…"I stuttered.

"Going to make amends?" she finished for me, her smirk growing.

"Yes…I…I'll go…do that." I choked.

"I know you won't disappoint!" she chuckled as I walked passed her.

I gave her a look of bewilderment.

She smiled sweetly. "Why have you stopped? Go on, she's waiting!"

I realized that I had, in fact, stopped walking when she'd spoken. I nodded to her, and left the room with determination.

* * *

I sipped my tea lightly as I stood beside the bed. Tears were still streaming my cheeks. He'd seemed so uncertain of what to say, what to do. He was right, though. I haven't really given him a fair chance. I just…I get so emotional! I was never like that before. I used to not allow my feelings to get in the way…but when James came into my life, everything changed, and it was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me. So why have I been so unfair to him?

A sigh passed my lips. Not a sad sigh, but a happy one. _'Pregnancy can do strange things to one's mood.'_

I slipped my left hand under my shirt, and caressed the baby bump that laid there. For the first time that day, I smiled. Another chance…another opportunity to feel a life blossoming inside of me…a result of my love, and James's, for one another.

"Darling?"

A gasp escaped my throat, and the tea cup shattered when it fell from my hand to the floor. I turned around quickly, and hissed as one of the sharp pieces sliced the bottom of my right foot. James took in the sight with calm eyes from the doorway, and walked slowly to me. He stole my breath away when he lifted me effortlessly, and eased me gently on the bed. He took my ankle in his large hands, causing me to shiver as he examined my foot.

I was surprised when he ripped his shirt-sleeve from the elbow down, and then tore it in half. He pressed one piece to the cut, and applied pressure.

"Hold that there." he said quietly.

I did as he told me, and watched as he soaked the other half in the wash basin. He gently took my hands from my foot, and allowed the bloodied cloth to fall to the floor. I winced when the cool cloth touched my wound, but was soon distracted when James began placing light kisses on my ankle.

My pain was soon forgotten, and replaced with amazement at the sudden swing of things. One moment we'd been shouting, then tears, now this! His hands worked slowly, carefully, as he handled my wounded foot.

"I apologize." he said quietly when he finished wrapping my wound. His hands traveled up my legs slowly, until his arms were around my waist. "I…didn't mean to make ou feel unloved, or cause you to feel as though I was keeping you locked up."

My belly caught his eye, and a smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he reached out and rubbed it. It was then that he felt the small bump, and he raised my shirt a bit to look at it. His smile widened as he caressed the bump lightly.

"It's blossoming quickly." he grinned.

I couldn't help but smile as he leaned forward and placed light kisses on and around the bump. Our baby was bringing us back together.

"I'm sorry I made you feel so neglected." he whispered, leaning up to place a kiss on my neck.

He looked up into my eyes, and for once, I didn't look away.

"Won't you forgive me?" he begged softly.

I took a few moments to study my husband. He was wearing naught but a pair of peach colored breeches, and a cream colored cloth shirt, which was missing part of a sleeve. His chocolate colored hair, despite being neglected, somehow managed to look neat tied at his nape. His lips were neither firm nor relaxed. To my amusement, he was actually chewing on his lower lip! His eyes were wide and round, and light green with innocence. He reminded me of a school boy.

I smiled, and began to run my fingers through his hair. "I forgave you the moment you walked in the room."

A smile slowly tugged at the corners of his mouth, and before I knew it, I was in his arms bridal-style. A shriek passed my lips as he spun us around in a circle, and my arms wrapped tightly about his neck. In the next moment, we were both on the bed; me wrapped in his arms, and pulled tightly against his body.

"Careful," I smiled against his chest. "We don't want to hurt her." I said quietly, wedging my hands between the bump and his belly.

He gently rolled me over on my back, and once again pushed my shirt up a bit. I closed my eyes as his splayed his hand on my belly, and caressed the smooth skin. His legs tangled with mine as his lips found my neck, and I couldn't help but giggle as his other hand roved my body.

* * *

"Father!" I called down the upstairs hallway.

"Isabella!" he said happily. "What brings you here, child?"

I held my right hand up, which clutched several pieces of parchment. "You left a few papers at our place."

His eyes brightened, and he walked at a quicker pace. "I worried of where those were!"

As he reached out to grab the papers, I pulled my hand away, keeping them from his reach. I stood on my toes then, to kiss his cheeks, and he returned the gesture.

"Now then." I smiled, passing the parchment to him.

He only chuckled. "Did you come here alone/" he said in his serious, fatherly tone. It didn't take much effect, however, because he couldn't seem to wipe the smile from his face.

"No, Father. Philip is in the dining room. He didn't get to eat much today, because of his work. I assured him it would be alright to eat something here. That is alright…Father?" I asked innocently.

"Alright! That's alright, my dear." he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"Now…" I started, when I thought I heard something.

Father must have heard something, too, for he head paused as well. It was a sort of giggling sound, getting louder, and louder. It then stopped, and was replaced with a deep groan. I looked to father at the same time father looked at me. We were standing right in front of James and Chrissy's room! It seems James had taken my advice…

"Shall we join Philip in the dining room?" I asked in a whisper, trying not to disturb them.

Father cleared his throat as his face turned red. "Yes, let's."

**Uh oh! Lol! I believe I would blush, too! Please review! Thanks!**


	18. Seven and a Half Months Later

**I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters that weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.**

* * *

Winter brought on colder weather. Not much colder than the usual Jamaican weather, but enough to notice a colder breeze. It also brought me seven and a half months of pregnancy, and a repaired marriage.

Things have settled down since "those weeks", as we referred to them now. James's navy career has been moving slowly, so he's been able to spend more time at home with me, and Oliver.

Oliver's health improved, as well. The swollen, purple bumps where he'd been bitten finally healed, leaving only a few as flat, reddish scars on his back. The effects of the venom in his eyes only cleared from his right eye, leaving him with the reddish tint, and blind, in the left. He was finally able to walk, and enjoy being outside, just as he was doing now.

I watched him quietly from the veranda just outside of our bedroom, smiling at his fluid movements. From being bedridden for so long, Oliver hadn't been able to work on his swordsman skills. Philip, feeling for the lad, promised him that when he was well, he would work with him, and help to improve his skills. He seemed a good tutor, for Oliver was doing very well, parrying most of Philip's attacks. I smirked as Oliver made a lunge for Philip, who barely dodged the action. A smile tugged at my lips, and I couldn't help but feel a bit of pride in my breast for my young son.

"You're cheating!" Philip panted, jumping back from Oliver's sword point.

"I thought we were using pirate tactics?" Oliver laughed.

I chuckled. They had agreed on that style, and it appeared Philip didn't care for that idea anymore.

"What has you giggling so?" A deep, warm voice said from behind me.

I closed my eyes, and leaned back against the strong figure as his arms wrapped lightly around me, and my pregnant belly. "Do you see what is happening just behind our home?" I smiled, not bothering to open my eyes.

"Are they at it again?" he chuckled.

"It would appear so." I sighed.

James chuckled again, though a bit softer this time. "Are we tired this morning?" he whispered, nuzzling my nape.

"The baby kept me up for quite some time last night." I said softly, placing his hands where the baby was kicking.

"I still think that is a bit rough." he mumbled.

I laughed, and turned around to face him. "There isn't much we can do about that, dear."

His eyes were soft as they swept over my body, and he smiled as he stroked my belly lovingly. "I regret that I must go to the fort today."

My smile softened, and I tugged lightly at his gold and navy-blue officer's jacket while placing a quick kiss on his lips. "Port Royal needs you."

He only continued to stare at me with that soft gaze, but I knew what he was thinking. _'But, _you _need me.'_

I fingered the lapels of his jacket, and then tickled his chin with a single finger. "I can make it. I'll be waiting for you when you get back."

He sighed softly through his nose, and dipped his head down to tenderly claim my upper lip. As we kissed he stroked my face with the backs of his fingers, and tried to move as closely to me as my belly would allow. "I look forward to it." he murmured against my hair.

"Help me put my robe on, and I'll walk you to the carriage."

He nodded, and draped an arm about my waist as he walked me back into the bedroom.

I slightly put my arms back, allowing him to slip the robe up and onto my shoulders. I tied the dark blue cloth loosely at the front, and grabbed a ribbon for my hair as well. Before I could make a move, James took the ribbon, and completed the task for me. I noticed that his fingers lingered at my nape longer than necessary, and smiled. He really didn't want to leave the house…or the room, for that matter. He put his arm across the small of my back and took my hand, and began to walk me down the hallway. We stayed in companionable silence, allowing our bodies and movement to speak for us.

'_I'd rather stay.' _his slow footsteps told me.

'_It is alright, dear. You have a duty.' _I replied by walking closer.

He sighed. _'Yes, I know.'_

I squeezed his hand, trying to ask, _'You regret your duty?'_

A snort escaped his lips, telling me, _'No. I would just like to stay here, with you, rather than do paperwork.'_

I threw a playful glare his way. _'You're using me for an excuse, then, to not do paperwork?'_

Though his face was calm, and composed, his eyes shined with slight surprise. _'No! I'm just saying…'_

'_Relax, darling.'_ I smiled. _'I know what you mean.'_

We stopped briefly at the top of the staircase.

His arm drooped slightly lower on my waist. _'Why do you toy with me so?'_

I smirked at him, and stroked his booted shin with my bare foot. _'I like to watch you lose your composure, and I know you like it when I toy with you.'_

He slightly fidgeted. _'We have guests, dear._

I laid my arm between his shoulder-blades, and tickled the back of his neck. _'Is that of any significance?'_

"Chrissy, please!" Came the strangled reply under his breath.

"Later, then?" I whispered.

He nodded, flustered. "Later would be better than now, in plain sight of everyone in the manor." he hissed as I continued tickling the back of his neck.

He gently seized my hand and placed it firmly at my side, then lightly gripped my upper arms as he helped me descend the staircase.

"When will you return?" I asked quietly when we reached the front doors of the manor.

"I'll be back in time for dinner." he replied, cupping my cheeks. "Please, don't do anything rash while I'm away." he pleaded. "I'll come as quickly as I can."

"Fine." I grumbled playfully. "Be safe, please.

He smiled. "Will do." he leaned down and captured my upper lip again, and allowed the kiss to linger long, and tenderly.

His thumbs stroked my cheeks as he gently pulled my face closer, and I thought I heard him sigh. _'I have to go.' _his actions seemed to say. _'Apologies.'_

"I love you." he said softly, nuzzling my jaw.

"I love you, too." I whispered.

With one more loving glance, he was gone. I sighed, and walked to the dining room, where breakfast awaited me.

"Good morning, Mrs. Norrington." Our butler, Albert, smiled as he poured me a cup of tea. "Are we feeling well?"

"Yes, thank you, Albert. Won't you dine with me?"

"I don't think…" he started.

"Rubbish. Please, eat with me, Albert." I smiled.

Slowly, a smile tugged at his lips. "Yes, Mrs. Norrington." he said as he took a seat across from me.

"Mum! I conquered him!" Oliver laughed as he ran into the room.

I couldn't help but smile. Oliver looked just like a school boy. His hair and clothing was completely soaked with sweat, and clung to his body. His good eye sparkled with excitement, and enthusiasm, and he was grinning widely.

"You…defeat him?" I chuckled. "You were victorious over Philip?"

"Only because he was cheating!" Philip claimed with a scowl, also coming loudly into the room.

"Oh, no, no, Philip! You agreed on pirate tactics!" Oliver smirked.

"Actually, Philip, I did hear you agree on those tactics." I smiled as I took a bite of ham.

Oliver smirked. Philip scowled. Albert covered his laugh by taking a large bite of a scone.

"Would you like to dine with us, Philip?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"No thank you, Chrissy. I've already eaten, and I have a meeting in thirty minutes to the hour. I'm in dire need of a bath, and fresh clothing. I don't believe it would be very appropriate for me to arrive like this." he chuckled. "I must be off now. Chrissy, Albert." he nodded. "Oliver." he scowled. "Good day."

"I haven't eaten yet." Oliver said cheerfully. "I'll dine with you."

"No you won't!" I said sternly. "You'll take a bath first. You're dripping with sweat, and you smell."

It appeared that he was going to say something, but he stopped, and nodded. "Yes, Mum."

* * *

"Thank you, Albert. It was delightful." I told the elder butler as I wiped my mouth with my cloth napkin. "I enjoyed it."

The old butler nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Norrington."

I sighed. "How many times have I told you, Albert? James is Mr. Norrington. I'm just Oliver."

He smiled. "And that is why I call him James, or Master Norrington, instead of mister."

I rolled my eyes. It was no use. The old butler would never change. I stood and left the room, searching for Chrissy. She's been a good mother to me, and I felt it was time to tell her the truth.

"Mum?" I said quietly as I entered the study, where I found her reading a book.

"Yes, Oliver?" her soft, deep blue eyes were on me.

I shuffled my feet. "I feel...I haven't been…completely honest with you…in the past." I mumbled.

She furrowed her brows. I had her full attention. "What do you mean? What is troubling you? Come here, sit with me."

I walked slowly to the settee and sat down next to her, folding my hands nervously in my lap.

"What is it?" she asked quietly, putting her arm around me.

"When I told you about my mum and father, I left a few important details out."

I reluctantly brought my gaze to hers. She nodded for me to continue.

"Cutler Beckett was, indeed, my father. He was very wealthy, as I suppose you found out, so they didn't marry because their families were poor, and needed money. Beckett thought he loved my mother, a poor lower class woman. But, his family strongly disapproved of him marrying her. He did so anyway, without his father's blessing, and moved to Tortuga, where he knew his family wouldn't dare follow him. What he didn't know, however, was…" I faltered.

"Go on, you can tell me." Chrissy pressed gently.

I took a deep breath. "My mother was already pregnant with me several weeks before they married. A child was in Beckett's plans, of course, because he would need an heir. Though he knew Tortuga was hardly the place to raise a child, he thought his 'love' for my mother would endure, no matter the hardship of living in such a dangerous place, trying to protect his young wife and properly raising a child. He later found that his love wasn't love for my mother at all, but lust. The hardship was just too much for him, which is what revealed his true feelings. He became bitter, and greedy, and used my mother when he pleased, which is how my sister came along."

"There's more." she said quietly.

I nodded. "I also told you that despite where we lived, and how we were treated, my mother taught me to be a gentleman. That wasn't entirely true, either. I learned from the other children, and some of the pirates that came to the island how to cheat people out of their money, and how to save my neck with lies, and how to steal. I was a complete gentleman around my mother, but at night, I was a completely different person. Though she told me not to, I hated my father. I would go to different bars at night and steal money for her, but told her I'd been begging, or doing small jobs for people.

"The pirates came a few years later. That was years after Beckett left us. They did, as I've told you, murder my mother, and they did pressgang me into their crew. But I went more willingly than others. I was still grieving for my dear mother, and didn't care what happened to me. I tried to remember the things she'd taught me. I enjoyed the pillage and plunder when I got the chance, but I was a much more merciful pirate than any on the crew.

I smiled. "You and James came a few years after. 'Admiral Norrington, and his wife', I'd thought. When I first saw you, I thought I could get profit out of helping you. I thought I could charge you for the extra food. I'd even come up with a plan! I would act kind at first, and just take the food to you for no charge the first time, make you think I was on your side. Then, I would demand money."

I looked at her again, feeling very ashamed. "But, then I saw that you had no money. I thought I could threaten you with anything you had…But you two had nothing but each other, and a baby on the way. I shamefully admit that I hated James at the time. He's the scourge of piracy, and piracy was all I knew then. I was going to torture him, out of hatred, but then I saw how kind a man he really is! Before I knew it, I was bringing you food, doing you favors. I'd seen how much you two loved each other. You'd shown me that there was still good in the world." I leaned closer to her, and whispered. "You'd shown me a kindness that only my mother had shown me, and you showed me love…I truly began to care about you two when I heard news of what Davis planned to do on the island."

I looked her right in the eyes. She was observing me with a soft gaze, and I realized she was stroking my hair.

"I understand if you don't want me anywhere near your household any longer." I whispered.

I was surprised when she pulled me to her, cradled me against her like a child. "I would never do such a thing. You're my child now. James and I have adopted you as such, legally, papers and all."

"Why do you still want me, after everything I've just told you?" I asked in confusion. "I don't deserve the home, and family you've provided me with."

She placed a kiss on my brow. "You're not the same person that you used to be, and we love you, Oliver. Me, James, the household staff! You're cared about more than you think. You're my child, and I'll always treat you as such." she smiled. She paused for a moment, and her eyes sparkled as she took my hand, and placed it on her belly. "Can you feel her moving?"

My eyes widened in amazement. "Doesn't that hurt you? Isn't she kicking a bit hard?"

She rolled her eyes. "You sound just like James."

**I guess that's when you know your son has spent too much time with your husband! Lol! Please review! Thanks!**


	19. How Could You?

**I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters that weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.**

* * *

Something felt wrong. Down in my bones, I could feel it. I rubbed my belly nervously, and looked at the pocket watch James had forgotten to take with him. It was almost dinner time. James was due any minute.

What could be wrong? Trouble brewing at a relative's house? A terrible storm on its way? I was distracted by the sound of the door being opened. I turned, and found James standing there, seemingly dumb-struck.

'_You look beautiful.'_ his eyes seemed to say.

I smiled at him, and walked the short distance to his arms. "Thank you."

He furrowed his brows. "For what?"

I chuckled. "For the complement."

He continued to look at me in confusion, so I picked up where I'd been forced to stop.

"How was your day?" I asked innocently as I once again fingered the lapels of his jacket, and stroked his booted shin with my foot.

"Alright." he stammered, not realizing his hands had found their way to my lower back. "Darling, I..." he started.

"Shh..." I interrupted. "Remember what you said earlier, at the top of the stairs?"

Again, he only furrowed his brows.

I rolled my eyes, and pulled him into a kiss by his jacket lapels. With a little more coaxing, I easily slipped my tongue in his mouth, and greeted his. A deep groan emitted from the base of his throat, and he leaned into the kiss as my fingers slid under his wig, and into his hair. Without breaking the kiss, I maneuvered us to the dresser, where I removed his wig and hat, and drove my fingers farther into his short hair.

"Darling," he tried again, breaking the kiss.

"Hmm?" I replied with my eyes closed.

"I...need to tell you something." he stammered as I removed his jacket.

"What is it?" I sighed, rubbing his shoulders.

"I...I have...I have to..." his eyes closed, and another groan escaped his lips.

I smirked, and removed his pistol and sword belt, also placing them on the dresser. I then resumed rubbing his shoulders. "Yes..?" I cooed.

He opened his eyes again, looked me with determination, and led me to the bed, where he tried to speak again. His jaw moved, but he couldn't seem to say anything. With a sigh, he began rubbing _my _shoulders instead.

"I've gotten the impression that something is wrong." I said quietly, though I leaned into his strong hands.

"Perhaps." he sighed.

I turned as quickly as I could, and looked him right in the eyes. "Has something happened?"

"Perhaps." he repeated softer.

"I thought so." I said to myself.

"Pardon?" he asked, furrowing his brows once again.

I took his hands in my own. "For the past two hours, before you came home, I've had this feeling that something wasn't right. You just confirmed it."

He sighed again. "There have been pirate sightings very close to this port." he mumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yes?" I pressed. "James, what is it?"

He closed his eyes briefly before reluctantly dragging his gaze to mine again. "The Admiralty, thinking there no better an admiral than me, want to send me after these pirates...as head of the fleet."

My heart sank. "For how long?" I asked quietly.

His eyes searched mine for a long moment as pain filled them. "Two months...maybe three."

I got to my feet quickly. "What?!" I cried. "How could you?!"

"Darling, please..." he started shakily, getting to his feet as well.

"Don't give me that!" I shrieked. "The baby! The baby could be born in two or three months!"

"Please calm down, dear!" he begged sadly.

No longer able to suppress it any longer, I bald up my fists and began striking his chest. "Why are you doing this?! You can't do this! It's not fair! I can't believe you're just going to leave me here to have your heir! Why are you doing this to me?!" I screamed.

The most peculiar thing happened when I tried to draw a breath. A sharp pain shot between my legs, and up into my belly. My breath came in short spurts, and I had grip James's shoulders to keep from falling over. I'd done it. I'd worked myself into labor.

"Chrissy, are you alright?" James asked, easing me on the bed.

I'd heard the panic in his voice, and it didn't help the fear that suddenly struck me from all angles. "I'm...going into labor." I breathed.

"N-no...you can't!" he cried. "It's only been seven and a half months, it's too early! Can...can you stop?" Even as he asked, he got me into position against the pillows of our bed.

"I can't just stop!" I shouted. "I need a midwife, James! The baby is coming!"

With every bit of strength he could muster, James leapt from the bed, and out of the bedroom.

* * *

I paced...and paced...and paced.

"Please sit down, James. Everything will be fine."

Even though the sentence was meant for comfort, I could hear the doubt in Isabella's voice.

I shook my head, and continued pacing. "They've been up there far too long. Something is wrong, and I can't enter my own bedroom...our bedroom." I corrected myself absentmindedly.

"James," Philip started. "Perhaps you should sit down."

I stopped, and turned a cold gaze on the young count's face. "What is the point of keeping me down here, pacing like a caged animal?" I bit out. "I'm a grown man, who not only witnessed child birth, but delivered our first baby on the island! Why am I not allowed to be with her?!"

I began to pace again, when the screams started. I turned on my heal, and made for the door, when Theodore and Philip grabbed me by the arms.

"Let me go!" I shouted. "She needs me!"

"JAMES!!" I heard Chrissy scream.

I tugged harder, but to no avail. I pulled harder, and harder, and almost got away, only to be stopped by Alexander's body in front of me, and his arms around my waist, keeping me from moving. He knew I would do nothing to hurt him, and to try to get away would most likely do just that to his old body. Theodore's hands gripped my arms, and Philip grabbed my legs, and I soon found myself being pinned to the settee in front of the fire. Again, I almost got away, until Isabella decided to sit herself firmly atop my stomach. I would do nothing to harm a woman, either, and therefore couldn't move...especially when Oliver sat down atop my legs. Philip and Theodore gripped my shoulders, keeping me from being able to thrash.

"JAMES!!" My wife cried again.

Everyone tightened their grip on me. I huffed. Chrissy screamed again. But then, the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard filled the air. It was another cry, but this one was fresh, and new. It was the cry of my baby.

I looked to Isabella, who was grinning at me. I looked up at Theodore and Philip, who did the same. "Baby..." I breathed. "A baby...My baby!"

Isabella and Oliver jumped off of me quickly, and before Theodore and Philip had completely let go, I was on my feet. I ran from the room, and bounded up the stairs, only to almost bump against one of the maids.

"Master Norrington!" she breathed when I had to put my arms around her to keep from knocking her down.

"Apologies, Jane!" I nearly shouted as I let go of her and ran around her.

I reached our bedroom, only to find it empty. I turned around in panic, only to almost run into Jane again.

"Master Norrington, please!" she exclaimed. "I was trying to tell you..."

"Where is she?!" I said as I gripped her shoulders.

She winced. "You're hurting me, sir!"

I released her, and bent over so that I was eyelevel with her. "Where is she?!"

"Master Norrington, please calm yourself!"

I growled. "Stop fooling around! Where is she?!"

"I've been trying to tell you! We changed her to a different night gown, and moved her to her quarters, where she would have clean bed sheets..."

I made for Chrissy's quarters with all haste, not even hesitating to listen to the rest of what Jane had to say. I made it all the way to Chrissy's bed, before I couldn't move anymore. She was sitting on the bed with the sheets pulled to her waist, and a small, crying bundle in her arms.

I thought I'd heard the midwife say something, but I couldn't make sense of it. I couldn't move my eyes from the crying bundle.

"James, she just congratulated you." Chrissy smiled.

"Th-th-th..." Was all I could manage to say.

"Well, come look!" My wife said excitedly.

I somehow managed to will my feet to move, and ease myself on the bed without falling. I peered over the soft, light green blanket, and looked down into the face of my crying baby.

"It's a girl." Chrissy breathed. "Isn't she beautiful, James?"

I couldn't answer. My voice had left me. I reached out to my baby, and brushed her cheeks with the tips of my fingers. She reached up and wrapped her tiny fingers around my index finger, and stopped crying as she stared intently into my eyes. Oh, her eyes! They were the same shade of green as mine, and seemed to hold the same sort of awe and curiosity that mine held. Was she as amazed to see me as I was to see her?

"What shall we name her?" Chrissy asked.

"W-w-w-what were the names you had suggested?" I whispered.

"I had been thinking about Melody, or Grace. Don't you remember?"

"Melody." I breathed. "I want her to be named Melody."

"Alright." My wife chuckled. "We'll name her Melody. What about a middle name?"

"You decide." I whispered.

I was so taken away by her. Lord, she was beautiful! Her hair was a light shade of brown...a mixture of mine and her mother's. Her eyebrows, nose, and lips looked just like mine as well, but she had her mother's hands...I could feel it in the way she was holding my finger.

"What about Bridget?" My wife suggested.

"Melody Bridget Norrington." I whispered. "Beautiful." I leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on my baby's forehead, and another on her little nose. "Welcome to the world, Melody."

A knock on the door reminded me of where I was.

"Come in." I heard Chrissy call.

"Let me hold her, please." I whispered.

The warmth that had welled up in my chest spread throughout my entire body when Chrissy eased Melody into my arms. Melody smiled up at me, a mirror image of my own smile. I smiled a gentle, open-mouthed smile at her, and cradled her against my chest so I could touch my nose to hers.

"Oh, James!" A soft voice said.

I looked up to find Isabella, Philip, Alexander, Theodore, and Oliver in the room, all keeping their distance, but still close enough to see my baby.

"She's beautiful!" Isabella cooed. "What is her name?"

I smiled at all of them as pride welled up inside me. "Melody Bridget Norrington." I looked down at my baby again. She was looking at all of the people in the room, seemingly nervous. "It is alright, little one." I murmured in one of her ears. Ears that looked just like her mother's. "I've got you."

"Master Norrington."

I reluctantly looked to the doorway, and found Jane standing there. "Yes, Jane?" I mumbled.

"You have a guest, sir. He's from the fort."

**Yeah! A baby! A _baby girl_! (Nudges BirdieInABox16) Please review lovely reviewers! Thanks!**


	20. A Bittersweet Goodbye

**I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters that weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.**

* * *

I stared between Jane and Melody. Jane looked very sympathetic, while Melody continued to stare at me in awe.

"Can't it wait?" I asked hopefully.

She shook her head. "He says it's urgent."

I sighed, kissed Melody on the forehead one more time, and eased her back into her mother's waiting arms. I smiled down at her, keeping her attention for a few more moments before she became distracted by her mother's eyes.

"Come, James. I'll go with you." Alexander offered.

Alexander and a curious Oliver struggled to keep up as I walked briskly down the hallway, the staircase, and to the parlor, where a man wearing a red and blue uniform waited.

"Admiral Norrington." he saluted.

I returned his salute, and fixed a stern stare on his face. "Yes?" I growled.

"Orders from the Admiralty, sir." he said in a bored tone as he passed me a leather satchel.

I opened it with annoyance, and skimmed the weather-beaten parchment it contained. "This...This states that I leave in the morning!" I said with shock as I passed it to Alexander, who also skimmed its contents. "That's rather short notice." I said suspiciously.

The soldier glared. "It took a while to get here, because of a pirate attack. I believe that makes a statement."

"I can't leave!" I seethed. "My wife just had a baby!"

"My apologies." he bit out. "But there are merchant ships being attacked as we speak, which requires your attention."

As a last resort I turned to Alexander.

Alexander shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid you have to go."

"Yes." The soldier said smoothly, a smirk caressing his lips. "There are certain duties that can't be neglected anymore."

I took slow steps toward the soldier, and didn't stop until I was nearly nose-to-nose with him. You had better pray to God that you're never assigned to my ship, under my command." I growled.

"No worries." he smiled wickedly. "I have my ways." With that, he snapped a crisp solute, and walked at a leisurely pace out the front door.

* * *

"Do you suppose everything is alright?" I asked the people around me as Isabella cooed softly to my baby. "He's been down there for quite some time."

Theodore nodded. "They could possibly be negotiating. I wouldn't worry."

I allowed a soft sigh, and smiled as Melody timidly reached out and grasped one of Isabella's fingers.

"She's so beautiful!" Isabella cooed.

I chuckled, and stroked my baby's hair. "She looks just like her papa."

"And she'll probably be just as stubborn." Philip jested.

Isabella tossed him a glare, I laughed, and Theodore rolled his eyes. Melody's expression twisted into one of confusion at the sudden noise and movement, and released a soft cry.

I smiled sympathetically, and held my arms out. As soon as Isabella eased her into my arms I began cooing, and cradling my baby. "Hush now." I whispered against her little temple. "You're alright, I have you."

"My apologies, Chrissy." Philip said as he stood. "I forgot that there's somewhere that Isabella and I need to be in half an hour. We need to get ready."

Isabella furrowed her brows for a moment. "Oh, that. Must we?"

Philip nodded. "Yes, dear."

"Well..." she started, looking over at me and Melody.

I smiled at her. "It's alright, Isabella. We can have you over for lunch tomorrow."

"Alright." she smiled back. "Thank you."

I watched the two leave before turning my attention to Theodore. I pat a spot on the edge of the mattress, and motioned for him to sit.

He did so at a leisurely pace, and smiled down at Melody once he was seated. "She's very beautiful," he said quietly. "And she has intelligent eyes. I expect she'll be no less than what her eyes are showing."

"Thank you." I whispered. "Would you like to hold her?"

"Yes, please." he stared tenderly down into his little niece's eyes once she was in his arms, and a soft smile tugged at his lips. "Abigail wants to have children." he murmured. "The wedding is two months away...I wasn't so sure about the idea...but now..." his smile grew as he stared at little Melody. "I never thought anything so small could be so..." he chuckled at his loss of words.

"You're going to be a wonderful father." I assured him.

I'm not certain, but I thought I'd heard him whisper, "I certainly hope so."

James walked into the room, then. His eyes were red, and angry, and his breaths were labored.

Theodore, as though feeling the sudden tension in the air, gently passed Melody back to me, nodded to me and James, and then shut the door firmly when he left the room.

"James?" I asked uncertainly. "Are you alright?'

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a few deep breaths before walking slowly to us. He eased himself at his rightful place beside me on the bed, and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead and Melody's.

I sighed. "What did he say?"

He pressed his face to my neck. "He brought orders of whenI...have to leave."

I took a deep breath. "When?"

He swallowed hard. "Tomorrow morning." he trembled against my body as he wrapped his arms around me and the baby, who was crying softly again. "How do you feel?"

"Exhausted." I mumbled.

It was true, too. It was only mid-day, but a lot had happened since I'd woken this morning. Quite frankly, child birth is very tiring. I had reason to just lay in bed all day.

"What is it, sweetheart?" James smiled at our baby.

"She may be hungry." I said thoughtfully.

I shamelessly uncovered the right side of my chest, and offered my breast to Melody, who accepted happily. She put her little fingers near her mouth, and closed her eyes as she drank.

"She's very hungry." James chuckled.

I smiled lightly and stroked her little fingers. "When do you think you'll be back?" I asked without looking away from her.

"Two or three months." he whispered. "I'm terribly sorry about all of this. I would take you with me if I could, but if we were to be attacked..." he seemed to shiver. "I'd rather you be here, safe."

"I know.' I whispered back. "I...I agree with you."

My eyes slowly traveled to his. His gaze held mild surprise at the small bit of information I'd shared. "No objections?'

I shook my head slowly. "No."

"This will be the longest we've ever been apart. You're usually very upset when something such as this comes around. Are you feeling alright?' he asked with concern.

"I am upset. I just..." I had to think for a moment. "When I look at our baby...I just can't think about myself! Nothing about me matters anymore...just her, and you. Even though I'd rather have you with me...I'd rather keep her from the danger, instead of go with you for my own selfish reasons."

I watched as the different emotions played across his features. A smile finally pulled at his lips, though, and he kissed my temple. "Good...Good. That's how I want you to feel."

I furrowed my brows. "Why?" I asked innocently.

"I want you to want to stay away from danger. That's how you're supposed to feel about those situations."

A tiny cough let us know that Melody was finished feeding. I smiled, and gently took her from my breast. "Pat her back until she burps." I said quietly as I passed her to her father. I watched with a smile as he took the blanket from around her.

"She's naked." he stated. "Why is my daughter naked?"

"We haven't any clothing for her. Don't you remember? We were uncertain of which sex she would be, so we didn't purchase her any clothing."

A small burp passed Melody's lips a few moments after James began to pat her back. He chuckled, and held her close to his chest as he replied, "We can purchase clothing tomorrow when we go to town, before you see me off."

I furrowed my brows. "Will any shops be open that early?"

He, too, furrowed his brows for a moment before his small smile fell. "No...I suppose not."

I sighed, and rubbed his upper arm as my eyes grew watery. "Abigail and I can buy her a few things to wear."

Judging by the pocket watch on the night stand, ten minutes of silence went by before either of us spoke again.

"She's asleep." James whispered. "I'll put her in her bassinet."

He slowly eased himself to the edge of the bed, wrapped Melody up in her soft blanket, and left the room.

* * *

I didn't go back to our bedroom after I laid sweet Melody in her bassinet. I went to my study instead, and stayed there for the better part of two hours. I didn't do much, really. I drank a glass of brandy, paced a few times, and then pulled out a map and began charting the course I would be sailing.

After the first thirty minutes doing calculations and charting, I vigorously threw my quill down on my desk. The rest of the hour and half was spent pacing, ready, and drinking small amounts of tea and brandy. Not all at once, obviously.

I went back to my map again, and was in the process of picking up my quill when a figure in the doorway caught my eye. The quill slowly slid from my fingers as my wife walked leisurely to my side. She was wearing a cream colored nightgown that barely went past her thighs, and she acted like she was very weak, and pained.

I rushed quickly to my study closet and got out a blanket, then wrapped it around my wife to hide her from any house staff that may pass by the open study door.

"Are you drunk?" she asked quietly.

I furrowed my brows. "No. Why do you ask?"

"You're swaying."

I reached out and stroked her cheeks. "I'm not swaying, darling."

"Your breath merits a strong smell."

"But I'm not drunk. Are you feeling alright, Chrissy?" I asked in concern.

She lightly placed her hands on my chest, and pressed her face to my neck. "I don't know."

It was at that moment that I lifted my wife up into my arms, and eased her on my lap as I sat in the chair behind my desk. "Do I need to fetch for a doctor?"

She shook her head. "I just feel so...weak."

I smiled at her, and placed a kiss atop her head. "That's natural."

"But I didn't feel so weak the first time..." she mumbled.

"The midwife said you would be feeling very weak...because you had the baby so early. It's a miracle that she was born so healthy."

"Hmm." Was all she said.

A sigh escaped my lips as I sat and allowed my hands to wander her body in a gentle manner, eliciting small sighs and barely audible moans from her throat.

"Must you go?" she murmured against my ear, before taking my lobe between her teeth.

"Yes." I mumbled quietly.

"There isn't another way?"

I nuzzled her temple as I pulled her tighter against me. "I'm afraid not."

"I understand." she whispered brokenly.

I picked her up and made my way to the stairs when I could feel her tears against my skin. Even though her body was weak, there were still ways I could make the night special for her before I had to leave on that wretched goose chase.

* * *

The next day found us rising before the sun, and down at the docks just as it was peaking brilliantly over the sea. I stood just a few yards from the gangplank with my wife, daughter, and son. Alexander, Isabella, and Abigail were there as well, bidding Theodore and I goodbye.

"Promise you'll come home soon." My wife whispered so that only I could hear.

I nodded. "I'll do my best."

She smiled weakly, and stroked my cheek with one hand while she cradled Melody against her with the other. "Be safe."

I returned her soft smile. "I'll do my best." I then looked down at little Melody, laying quietly in her mother's arms.

She was looking around and listening to all of the hustle and bustle of sailors working on and near the ship. To be honest, she looked slightly frightened, and near crying.

"Melody." I whispered as I leaned down close to her little face.

Her eyes flicked quickly to mine in a heartbeat, and a small amount of her fear seemed to leave as soon as she looked at me. With a small whimper, she held her arms out, reaching for me.

I took her gently into my arms, and cradled her against my chest as I kissed her little forehead. "I love you."

To my surprise, and everyone else's, Melody put her little hands on my cheeks as though she'd understood what I'd said, and she was trying to embrace me. I found myself holding tears back as I kissed her little temples, and then pressed my face to her blanket-covered belly.

After a few more minutes, I turned my attention to my son. "Oliver." I said quietly. I leaned close to his ear, and whispered. "You're the man of our home for as long as I'm away. Take care of your sister and mother." I paused for a moment, a smile threatening my lips. "Make sure my wife doesn't do anything rash."

He laughed softly, and took Melody from my arms. "Yes, Father."

I looked over at Isabella and Alexander, who were just standing near our little group. Looking further, one could see two silhouettes hiding in the shadows of the docks just behind the Ambassador and his daughter. Theodore and Abigail saying their goodbyes. I smirked. Theodore didn't seem like one to hide in the shadows to simply "talk". I shook my head as my gaze drifted to Isabella.

She smiled lightly, trying to keep her mask of society composure from faltering. These things are always difficult for her, even though she courts me no more. Losing me would be like losing a big brother to her.

I returned her smile, and took her small hand in mine. "Do not worry, dear friend." I whispered in her ear.

She sniffled as she nodded.

I leaned down and placed a kiss on her knuckles, as any gentlemen would, and nodded to her father. Alexander nodded in return, and wordlessly pat my shoulder.

It was then that I turned and gave my wife my full attention. She had been waiting patiently, and would soon be rewarded for it. "Darling..."

I couldn't say anything else, for she had thrown herself against me, and wrapped her arms about me as she pressed her face to my neck.

'_Curse propriety.' _I caught myself thinking. I tilted my wife's head back and kissed her, long and tenderly, right on the lips. I didn't care if anyone could see us. I didn't care what it would do to my reputation. I didn't care if anyone of the elite society frowned upon me for kissing my wife in public. If was to be at sea for two months, I wasn't going to settle for a simple kiss to her smooth knuckles. I was going to tell her everything I wanted her to know without speaking. I didn't need to speak. I wanted her to feel it. She felt it, too. She held my face gently, keeping me there for a few moments longer.

"Please come back to me." she whispered brokenly.

My gaze softened as I stared at her tear-streaked face, and a new, merciless wave of detirmination washed over me as I kissed her one more time. "I will."

**(Sniffles) Poor Norrington! Sorry peoples for taking so long to get this posted. Semester exams and tests have been stressing me out, and this is the first time I've been able to think clearly. Please don't be mad! Please review! Thank you!**


	21. Restless

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.**

* * *

_My Love,_

_It has been three weeks since I've made my departure. Now that you've received this letter, it has possibly been a bit longer than that. The waters of which my crew and I have sailed have been reasonably calm, and we've spotted not one threat of pirates in the area. We've opted (I not as eager as the crew), to sail toward Cuba, Mexico, or maybe even Florida. It is to be a long trip, and as we feared, it may be three months before I may return to you._

_My nights have been long, and painful. Sometimes I find myself pacing the deck at various hours of the morning in naught but my boots, breeches, shirt untucked, and my hair fallen down partially in my eyes. Full moon nights are the most painful. They remind me of the times I would lay and watch you sleep peacefully after we made love, or when I would just watch you sleep in general (which is quite often). _

_I miss you dearly, my love. I ache horribly to hold against me as I try to fall asleep, and I'm certain you feel the same about me. When I do manage to fall asleep, I dream of you. I dream of lying awake in our bed, both of us bare beneath the sheets, talking of nothing in particular. I know this sounds strange, but I wake up feeling as though we're actually communicating through our dreams. I even wake with a tingling feeling on the skin of my face as though your fingertips had just been there. Strange, yes? Or perhaps I've grown used to you waking me with a simple whisper and a touch on the cheek. How I long for that now..._

_Our children are faring well, yes? Even though I only spent two days with her, I miss the sound of Melody making her soft, baby noises as she stared intently at us. I apologize for having to leave you to take care of her on your own. Oliver is helping you, isn't he? I told him he had the position of "man of the house" while I'm away. Hopefully he's filling his role of keeping things under control._

_I apologize, darling, but I must go now. I've been informed that there has been a brawl among a few of my men on the deck. I must do my best in making sure that it won't happen again while we're on this voyage. Sadly, that means severe punishment to the men that started the argument. You know how I feel about keeping a clean, organized ship._

_Please write to me soon, love; I long to hear from you._

_Yours,_

_James._

"Are you reading that letter again?"

I quietly folded my letter and laid it aside as I playfully glared at Oliver. "What of it?"

Oliver smirked from his place on the hearth as he put another piece of wood in the fire. "That's the fifth time that I've seen you pick it up in the better part of an hour. Why won't you read it to me?"

I quirked an eyebrow at him as I smiled. "Because it simply contains things meant for me, and me only."

He grinned. "Oh? And what is it that you absolutely must keep secret? Has he shared his battle plans?"

I looked back down at the letter beside me, and stroked the elegant writing of James's hand on the front. "No. James doesn't like to discuss battle plans with me. Not because it's supposed to be kept secret. He just doesn't like discussing his work with his family. That is something that stays at the fort, on his ship, or among he and his men. Besides, it would be too risky to discuss one's battle plans in a letter. You never know who's hands it could end up in."

"So...why won't you read it to me, then?" Oliver asked curiously.

"Because there simply things that woman don't like to share about their love letters." Came a soft, amused voice from the doorway of my husband's study.

"Abigail!" I exclaimed softly from my place on the settee as I pat a spot beside me. "Sit with me, please."

Her steps were so light, and smooth, that it seemed as though she was floating across the floor. She curtsied to Oliver as he stood, and he bowed, and kissed the top of her hand in return.

"Go look in at the baby, Oliver, and bring her to me if she is awake." I told him softly.

"And if she isn't?"

I chuckled. "Let her sleep. It isn't quite time to wake her yet."

"So, what does this forbidden letter contain?" Abigail asked giddily as soon as Oliver was out of the room.

I scoffed playfully. "Really, Abigail! What did you just finish saying to Oliver?"

She smiled sweetly. "I have an idea of what it says. I received one from Theodore this morning."

I shook my head, and handed her the letter. "If you breathe a word of what it says to anyone..."

"Relax, darling. It shall be a secret among you, me, and James. No one else will know."

I waited for her to finish skimming the letter before I spoke again. "So, out of curiosity, what brings you here?"

"I've nothing to do at my estate, or Theodore's. I was hoping I would be accepted here?" she said innocently.

I smiled at her. "Always."

She returned my smile, and passed the letter back to me. "He's a kinder man than he lets on in public."

"I believe he showed us all a few weeks ago." Oliver laughed as he took his seat on the hearth. "People are still talking about it."

"Let them talk." I growled. "A man should be able to properly say farewell to his wife in public."

"Indeed." Abigail nodded.

I cut my eyes around to her slyly. "And just what was it that you and Theodore were doing in the shadows beneath the docks, hmm?"

"The same thing you and James were doing." she smiled.

I shook my head again, and turned my attention to Oliver. "Still asleep?"

He nodded. "Sleeping without a care."

I stood, and made my way to one of the study windows with a slight smile. "Good. She's supposed to be careless at that age."

Whatever I had planned to say next slid from my train of thought as I gazed out across the ocean. For a moment, I thought I could see James's ship coming into the harbor, but it was just a merchant ship. My momentary hope sank, and I leaned against the windowsill with a sigh.

"Mum?" Came Oliver's voice.

I shook my head as a hand rested on my shoulder. Oliver was standing beside me with slight concern written on his features.

"I apologize, Oliver. What did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted to join us for breakfast. Are you feeling alright, Mum?"

A soft smile tugged at my lips, and I affectionately stroked his soft, auburn hair. "I'm alright...I just miss your father."

He, too, smiled, and gently took my hand in his own. "Come along. Perhaps some breakfast will help."

I nodded, and glanced out the window one more time at the sea.

* * *

A sigh passed my lips as I paced my cabin silently. I'd inspected the ship several times, and, thankfully, came up shipshape. The men that had started the argument a week ago, which had led to a fight, had received their lashes, and were currently swabbing the decks.

Everything had been quiet other than that argument, and there wasn't really anything to do. The men were doing their duties, the ship was being run smoothly, and there didn't seem to be any weather or pirate threats at the moment. A sailor's wish come true; no trouble. Nothing to do on a ship full of sailors, however, usually leads to restlessness, or mutiny, if it drags on long enough.

I heaved a heavier sigh, and put on my officer's coat and tricorn hat, and made my way out of my cabin. On the deck there was nothing but the sounds of waves lapping gently against the hull, a gentle breeze blowing against the sails, and the Union Jack waving lazily above the poopdeck. I tilted my chin up slightly, and enjoyed the smell of the sea being blown gently in my face. It had been a long time since I'd been able to relax so while on a voyage. The only thing that bothered me was how overcast the sky was, and how it seemed a bit foggy.

I shrugged the slight concern off of my shoulder, and decided to walk about the deck. Sailors greeted and saluted as I walked by, and I returned their actions as I made my way to the man standing guard over the men scrubbing the deck; men that had started that argument.

"Admiral." he saluted.

"Lieutenant." I said, returning his salute. "How long have they been at it?"

"All morning, Sir."

I nodded, and looked down at one of the men scrubbing. He looked to be only nineteen, and was quite a scraggy, lanky fellow with short, mussed up brown hair. His back, like the other men, merited several lashes that were in the process of healing. His clothing, mainly his breeches, were filthy, showing that he'd been working for quite a while. He was very intent on his task, and hadn't even looked up at me when I'd spoken like the other lads near him had.

"You there." I called to him in a normal tone.

He immediately stopped scrubbing, and looked up at me with curious brown eyes. "Aye, Sir?"

"On your feet, and come here, lad."

He did as I told him without a moment's hesitation, his brush still clutched in his left hand. I took his free hand by the wrist, and gently examined his palm. It was filthy, of course, and red, with open blisters.

"Steady, lad." I murmured so that only he could hear when he hissed at my examinations.

I glanced down at his knees, next, and found that they had also been rubbed raw from his work. I could see the other lads from the corner of my eye, watching me hopefully.

I smirked inwardly, and gently released his wrist. "What is your name, lad?"

"Parks, Sir."

I nodded. "Leftenant, see to it that Mr. Parks and the others get their hands and knees taken care of. The decks look well taken care of; I think they've done enough."

"Aye, Sir." he saluted.

"Thank you, Sir." Parks said shortly before the others spoke.

As he began to turn away, I grabbed Parks by the shoulder, and spun him around to face me. "If I hear of any more fights that include you, or any of the others that were just scrubbing the deck, I'll see to it that you receive much worse punishment than you got this week. That goes for all of you! Do I make myself clear?" I said in a clipped tone as I addressed them all.

"Aye, Sir! Apologies, Sir!" he and the other lads answered quickly.

I nodded, and released him as I made my way to the poopdeck.

"Good afternoon, Admiral Norrington." the helmsman greeted me.

"Afternoon." I nodded. "I've come to take over for a bit."

"Aye, Sir."

I relished the feeling of the smooth wood against my palms. I hadn't actually _sailed _my ship in quite a while. The wheel just felt natural in my hands, but it couldn't seem to get rid of the uneasiness caused by the clouds and fog.

"Admiral."

I looked to my left upon hearing the calm voice, and found Theodore standing there, his hands folded neatly behind his back.

"Lieutenant." I nodded.

"Are you really so restless that you've resorted to bullying lower ranked sailors?" he asked quietly.

"I wasn't bullying." I replied without taking my eyes from the sea. "I was simply trying to make sure they wouldn't brawl again while on this voyage."

"Hmm." Was his reply. "Aren't there ways other than biting their heads off?"

"Other superior officers would have you punished for such a low display of respect." I reminded him.

"My apologies, Sir. We are brother in-laws."

I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of my lips. "Indeed." I glanced over at him briefly. "You seem tired."

"Yes, Sir." he nodded, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

"You miss her." I stated.

He nodded again. "Yes, Sir." he paused for a moment. "Does it always feel like this?"

I smiled that time. "Yes. It will increase when you marry, and have children, but it is completely worth it."

"Sir!" A young sailor said as he held up a spy glass. "A ship has been spotted, sir."

"Take the helm, Theodore." I rushed as I made way with haste to join the sailor at the starboard side.

"Just there, Sir. A few degrees to the left."

I looked through the spy glass with mounting dread.

"Sir?" the sailor asked.

I furrowed my brows. "It's _The Black Pearl_, but..."

Theodore arrived at my side once he found someone to take hold of the wheel. "Sir?"

I stared at the ship a few moments more, my brows still furrowed. "It's Sparrow sailing _The Black Pearl_, but they're flying a white flag."

**MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Hmm...Jack Sparrow, _The Black Pearl,_ and a white flag...Something seems a bit fishy here. Please review, and let me know your thoughts on this! Thank you! HAVE A GREAT CHRISTMAS!!**


	22. Do We Have An Accord?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.**

* * *

"A word, Admiral Norrington, if you please!"

I closed my eyes as a growl formed at the back of my throat. Sparrow? Sparrow was the pirate threat that was keeping me from my wife, daughter, and son?

"Sir?" Theodore whispered beside me. "Orders, Sir?"

"I want all hands to stations." I grumbled. "If he wants to talk, he's coming over here."

Theodore's booming voice became a low hum in my mind as I opened my eyes and brought them to meet Sparrow's gaze. Sparrow grinned that silly, gold-toothed grin at me as he slowly brought his ship to a halt beside mine. Another low growl formed low in my throat as I prepared myself for whatever it was Sparrow wanted to discuss.

"There's something we need to be discussin', Admiral. If you would please come over here..." Sparrow started.

"I'll be doing no such thing, Sparrow." I snapped. "Anything to be discussed will be done so in my cabin."

Sparrow seemed to hesitate for a moment before turning to a man with grayish hair, and very long sideburns. Gibbs, I think his name was.

"Today, Sparrow!" I growled after a few minutes.

Sparrow seemed to jump in a startled manner at the sound of my voice, and finally began making his way over the board that was placed between our ships. "Admiral." he said in a small voice.

"In my cabin." I grumbled.

* * *

Sparrow closed the door quietly behind him when we reached my quarters, and seemed to linger near it as I took a seat behind my desk.

"You wanted to discuss something, Sparrow?" I said impatiently.

"Aye, mate." he smiled as he swaggered about the room. "A proposition, actually."

I followed him with tired eyes as he walked about the room, picked up random objects, studied them for a few moments, and then set them back down.

"Ya see, mate, there's been word goin' around about you." he said as he picked a book from my book shelf.

"That doesn't surprise me." I mumbled.

He flailed his arms a few feet from his face, having trouble sticking his index fingers up due to the book still clutched in his hand. "Ye didn't allow me to finish, mate...Oh." he said, setting the book down. "Now then. There's been word about you tryin' to find the latest pirate threat raiding many of the merchant ships tryin' to sail their courses."

I sat up a bit straighter. "How do you—"

"Pirate." he grinned. "I can tell you now, mate, you won't find them in these waters—"

"Oh? You mean you're not a threat?" I snorted sarcastically.

Sparrow seemed to pout. "Ya keep int...inter...nnn...aaa..."

"Interrupting?" I growled.

His eyes lit up, and he swaggered to the front of my desk as he waved his index finger in front of my face. "Yep! That's the one! Interrupting! If you would just allow me to finish what it is that I have to say—"

"With all due respect...If you even know what respect means, I'm a very busy man, therefore, I urge you to get on with whatever it is you have to say."

I felt as though I'd been struck in the chest when my gaze flitted quickly to the small painting of my wife that I had on my desk. Four weeks. Four weeks since I'd seen or heard anything from my wife. This whole ordeal was making me very restless, and irritable.

Sparrow, unfortunately, caught this momentary action, and picked up the picture. "Ah. So that's what your wifey looks like. She's more a beauty than they've been sayin'."

I hastily snatched the painting from Sparrow's hands and tossed it in the top drawer to my right, and couldn't help but gaze at the painting for a few moments before tucking it away.

"Ah, I see." Sparrow grinned. "Ye miss yer bonny lass. You know if you would allow me to explain what it is that I've been wantin' to explain, meaning several moments of no int...int...interrrrrrupting, Admiral, you could get back to yer little wifey a whole lot quicker. Ya see, the proposition I have to offer is certainly one you wouldn't be wantin' to pass if you would like to catch this deadly pirate threat." Sparrow looked about the room with furrowed brows, walked to one of the corners and grabbed a chair, and then promptly flopped down in it before propping his boots up on my desk. "I'm quite proud of meself, really. It is a good proposition, and I'll be bettin' you'd like it a lot, bein' if yer willin' to listen to it...As a matter of fact—"

"It would be nice if you would just tell me what the proposition is, Sparrow." I snapped. "And get your filthy boots off of my desk!"

"Right then." he grinned, removing said boots from my clean desk. "I can lead you to said pirate threat. If we work together, we can destroy their ship much more better than just the one of us trying to destroy said ship. This way we both get rid of the pirate threat, you get a big shiny medal, and we can both go about our ways un...unsc...unnun..."

"Unscathed." I snorted as I rolled my eyes. "And you've forgotten two things." I paused for a moment to wrinkle my nose and brush the dirt left from Sparrow's boots on my desk.

Sparrow again furrowed his brows as he sat up. "Aye?"

"Indeed." I stated arrogantly as I folded my hands atop my desk. "One: You're a pirate, so I wouldn't completely be ridding those waters of a pirate threat. Two: What is in this for you?"

Sparrow pouted. "Well..."

"That's what I thought." I smirked, not giving him a chance to finish. "Unless I know why you want to help me find this pirate threat, I'll have no part in your proposition."

"Wait, Admiral!" he said quickly as he got to his feet.

I stared up at him with boredom written plainly across my features.

"I...he..." Sparrow faltered. "He's the devil himself."

I snorted. "I'm sure you think that of a lot of people."

"He just needs to be taken care of." he said lamely.

I narrowed my eyes at the pirate before me, before realization struck me. I smiled wickedly at him. "Could it be that the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow is frightened of another pirate?"

"Frightened isn't a way I would think of it." he said defensively.

I leaned forward a bit in my chair, the smirk still caressing my lips. "Let me get this straight, Sparrow. You want me to willingly follow your crew to the 'location' of a dangerous pirate threat, so we can help you defeat someone you're afraid of?"

"It doesn't sound like you want to go through with this, then?" he asked in a small voice.

"Not exactly." I laughed.

I shook my head while I turned my attention to the third drawer to my left, and produced a flask of brandy and a glass from it. Really, he expected me to destroy someone he was afraid of?

"How badly do you want to get back home to your bonny lass?" he asked smugly.

I tried to shake it off before it took effect, but it was too late. Her deep blue eyes came to the forefront of my mind and cast a spell over me like they always did, causing me to become immobile.

"Ah. I see how to catch your attention now." Sparrow grinned. In a few moments he was behind my desk and at my side with his hand on my shoulder, and his lips next to my ear. "Think about her, mate. Think about her sittin' there, all alone, vulnerable to the world as she stares out your window, awaiting your return. Heartbreaking, isn't it? Just think about it. She's crying, whisperin' your name as she holds your baby close to her."

Though I tried not to picture it, the image Sparrow had described somehow managed to work its way into my head. It was a heartbreaking thought, and it was really making me want to agree with to Sparrow's proposition, and...Wait. How did he...

In a heartbeat I was out of my chair with my right hand clutched around Sparrow's neck. I shoved him against the wall without mercy. "How do you know of my baby?" I snarled.

"Easy, mate!" he choked. "I can't breathe!"

I let go of his throat and grabbed his vest with both hands, causing him to draw his arms very close to his body. "Well?" I hissed. "How do you know?"

"I heard some of the crew talkin' about it as we were walkin' to yer cabin, mate! Why is it such a bad thing that I know about yer baby?" he asked in a panicked tone. "What would yer wifey think about you're handlin' an innocent man like this?"

I started to say something, only to clamp my mouth shut and release Sparrow rather abruptly, causing him to fall to the floor with a thud. What would Chrissy say if she saw my behavior? I turned away from him with a sigh, and clasped my hands behind my back as I came to a stop in front of one of the windows at the back of my cabin.

"Believe me, mate, agreein' to my proposition will be one of the best things you've ever done." Sparrow said smugly as he came to a stop beside me.

I looked over at him only to be surprised that he was holding out a filled-to-the-rim glass of brandy to me. I took it from him with furrowed brows as he took a gulp from the actual flask of brandy.

"Well, mate?" he pressed.

I took a deep breath, and downed the glass in two gulps. "Name your terms, Mr. Sparrow."

"Now yer talkin', mate!" he said excitedly as he filled my glass. "First of all, I want no harm to me crew. Second, a share in the reward money, and third, you mustn't put me in the brig for the entire voyage."

I stared at him sternly as I finished the remains of my brandy, only to have him fill my glass once again. I downed half of it as I glanced back out the window. "Alright. But I'll not give you money or freedom from the brig until the mission is over, and you've lived up to _my _terms."

"Name them." he nodded, taking another hefty swig from the brandy flask.

"One: You'll do whatever I tell you when I tell you, mainly for safety reasons. Two: You'll not steal any from me, or rip off any of my men, and that goes for your crew, too. My men work hard for their money, and can't afford to have it stolen from them. Lastly, if you value your life, you'll not speak a word of how you persuaded me to agree to your proposition."

Sparrow held his hand out with a chuckle. "Agreed."

**Apologies, my dear readers, for taking so long to post, and post a short chapter at that! Hopefully the next chapter will be longer out quicker. By the way, did I write Jack in character? Please let me know! Please review! Thank you!**


	23. Disappointment In Several Ways

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.**

* * *

My morning had been unusually slow. I'd eaten breakfast, which consisted of two biscuits, a large slice of ham, and a fresh glass of milk. I then tended to little Melody when she woke and began crying for care. I bottle-fed the precious little buggar, saving Chrissy the job of having to breast feed as soon as she woke, and changed her before handing her over to her mother who'd woken shortly after. I then spent the better part of an hour chopping up part of a fallen tree for fire-wood. A simple but slow morning indeed.

So I sat on the shore having done all of my chores, a bamboo fishing pole in my hands. I'd caught several fish already, and put my catches in a wicker basket that rested in the sand beside me. Chrissy would be proud of me, and I believe the cooking staff would be pleased as well, for I'd saved them a trip to the market.

As I stood and pulled in another fish I felt something small, and round pelt me in the back. An irritated grunt passed my lips, and I didn't even have to turn around to know who was throwing things at me. I ignored them as I dug around in the fish's mouth and pulled the hook out before placing the fish in the basket. Once the lid was closed I turned and faced the source of the flying pebble, only to be pelted in the chest with another.

"Oye!" I shouted in annoyance at the two other teenage boys. "Watch it!"

"Oh, has little Ollie gotten his knickers in a knot?" The taller of the two, Clarence, asked in an annoyingly taunting voice.

Clarence was a bit taller than me with cropped black hair and brown eyes. His voice wasn't very deep, but wasn't annoyingly light either. His usual style of dress was a yellowish cloth shirt and dark brown breeches. No stockings, no shoes: nothing fancy, really.

The other boy was short than me, with cropped red hair and blue eyes, and went by the name John. His style of dress was similar to that of Clarence's, with the exception of gray breeches.

"Buggar off." I growled irritably as I gathered my things.

"Aww! Is Mr. Beckett to busy playing 'man of the house' to play with the big boys?" John laughed. "Too busy trying to be Admiral Norrington? What, do you think she's your woman now? Aw, come on Mr. Beckett!"

My things fell to the sand as I whirled around and grabbed John around the throat, jerking him so that his nose was nearly touching mine. "Call me Beckett again, and see what I'll do." I growled in a low tone.

I could feel John swallow hard beneath my hand. It looked like he wasn't going to do it, and I was going to release him when all of a sudden his eyes narrowed. "Beckett." he said loud and clearly.

A growl formed in the back of my throat as my fist connected with John's face. He'd pushed me over the edge, and he was going to pay for it. I hit him over and over in the face with a strength and anger I'd forgotten I had. The pirate side of me was taking over my mind, and I was doing nothing to stop it. In all honesty, it felt great.

I managed to hit John in the stomach before I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders. They whirled me around and shoved me back against Clarence, who locked me against him so I couldn't move; couldn't defend myself. John came up to me and released the fury in his fists. He started with my face first, hitting my cheeks and jaw. When those places were bruised and bleeding, he moved to my chest and stomach until he was certain I was bruised there was well.

"Bloody bastard." Clarence sneered as he shoved me in the sea water that had come up on the shore. "Not even fit to kiss my boots. You're worthless, just like your father was."

Just to get his point across, Clarence kicked me in the face before walking away with a staggering John.

They left me there alone to die, not giving a care that I really could bleed to death, or be taken out to sea by the current. To be honest, I didn't care either. I didn't make any attempt to move, or save myself from the ever strengthening current. And since I was blind in my left eye, and the right side of my face was shoved down in the sand, I couldn't see Ambassador Swann, Rochester, or the maid Jane coming quickly toward me.

"Good Lord!" Swann mumbled beneath his breath. "What happened here?"

"Two boys, Sir." Jane answered. "When I came out of the stables I saw them. Acted like they wanted to beat the life out of him!"

"could you tell who the two boys were?" Philip asked as he gently turned me over.

I winced when the two men began examining my wounds. Perhaps Clarence and John had hurt me more than I'd wagered?

"Yes, Sir." Jane told him softly as she dabbed at my sand-covered face with a damp cloth. "Their names are John and Clarence. They come every now and then and pick on Oliver, but, they've never harmed him physically." she said slowly.

"Can you hear me, lad?" Alexander asked as he finished examining my wounds.

I groaned, and tried to turn my face from his touch. His fingers had barely touched my skin, yet it had hurt like all get-out.

A sigh passed Alexander's lips, and he grabbed my upper arms. "Get his legs, Philip, we need to get him inside."

As they lifted me I couldn't help but embrace the pain. How could I be so stupid? I could only imagine what the expression on Chrissy's face would be. With a sick feeling, I could only imagine how disappointed my new father would be in me when he got back...

* * *

_My dearest James, _

_I received your letter four weeks after you sent it. I know it has been half a month since I got it, and I am terribly sorry for not writing sooner. Little Melody has been quite demanding, and I jest not when I say I've only had time to eat and sleep. She is a very energetic little thing! She takes after me more than we thought. Though, she does __look __a lot more like you, darling. Her hair had darkened a bit to more of a brownish color, and her smile looks more and more like yours every day._

_Have no worries, darling, Oliver is doing a fine job of being the temporary "Man of the House". he has been getting up in the early mornings to bottle feed our little girl, and has provided us plenty with food by fishing and hunting each afternoon. You should be proud of him, my darling._

_I hope you have resolved the arguing among your crew. I know how you like to keep a tight ship. By the way, how is your voyage coming along? I feel odd saying this, but I hope you find that pirate threat soon. The faster you find them, the faster you can return home to me and the baby._

_I shouldn't tell you this, but you have a right to know. I am quite afraid. Lately, I have been feeling quite weak, and tired...all through the day, to be honest. The doctors and midwives can find nothing wrong with me. They say I'm still weak from childbirth, but, I can't bring myself to believe them. _

_Be safe, be cautious, but please hurry back. I am afraid for my health, and I fear for your safety. You know I love you with all of my being, my darling. You are in my prayers, love, and God is with you, and angels are watching over you. Still, please be careful._

_Forever yours,_

_Chrissy._

I folded the letter with care and placed it in the pocket on the inside of my officer's coat. That way, it was lying right atop my heart.

"Have you memorized it yet?"

I jumped up out of my chair and reached for my sword, only to realize it was Sparrow. "Oh. It's just you." I mumbled. "What do you want, Mr. Sparrow?"

"Just me?" Sparrow pouted. "I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow, mate!"

"Yes, I'm very much aware of who you are, Mr. Sparrow." I snapped as I sat back down at my desk. "I'm a very busy man, Mr. Sparrow. What do you need, Mr. Sparrow?"

"It's _Captain, _mate. _Captain _Jack Sparrow. And I don't need anythin'."

"Then _why _are you in here, Mr. Sparrow?" I sighed.

I didn't get a response. When I didn't get a response, I didn't really _care _that I didn't get a response. I only continued to stare at the map that took up the entire top of my desk, and even hung over a bit.

"Why so glum, mate?"

I was surprised when this question came up, which caused me to look up at the pirate. He was standing in front of my desk with his hands behind his back, just staring at me.

"Glum, Mr. Sparrow?" I said with my brows furrowed.

"Glum. Not walking about with yer head up, acting all stuffy, like you have a stick up yer arse. You know, glum." he said, making motions with his hands.

I looked back down at my map. "I don't know what you mean, Mr. Sparrow. By the way, you said we would be at this point by tomorrow." I said, pointing to a place on the map. "The day is nearly over, and we're only here. Why are we only here, when we should be there?" I grumbled.

"Theeeere was a storm a few days ago, Admiral. Have you forgotten?" Sparrow said slowly as though I was a young child that hadn't understood something he'd said.

I furrowed my brows for a moment in thought. "Ah. Yes. Apologies, Mr. Sparrow."

Apologies? Perhaps I wasn't being my usual self, as Mr. Sparrow had told me. We needed to find this pirate threat, and we needed to find it fast, or I would soon have a mutiny on my hands.

**SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO GET THIS POSTED! To be honest, I lost my muse and interest in the story, and just didn't touch it for a while. School has gotten very stressful, and I'm basically hanging on by my fingernails trying to get my grades up or to keep them up. Again, I'm sorry, and I apologize if this chapter was awful! Please review even if it is and tell me so! Thank you!**


	24. Hostile Situations

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies, you know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

"Mum?"

I looked up upon hearing the soft, yet deepened voice of my son, and smiled at him. "Hello Oliver. Come here and sit with me." I said as I pat the empty place next to me on the stone bench.

Melody had been acting very well, and quiet, so I'd decided to take her out to the gardens. The skies were a bit over-cast, and the sun a bit low in the sky. I hadn't been keeping track of the time, so I guessed that is was well past four or five in the afternoon.

Oliver limped to me, a result of what those horrid boys had done to him, and eased himself to my left on the cool stone bench. "A letter...from father." he told me. "The mail-carrier sends his apologies for taking so long to get it here. He said that some of their horses had gotten loose, and he had to lend his hand in getting them back to the stables."

I chuckled, and took the letter gently from his slightly tanned hand. Melody took a genuin interest in the parchement I merrited, and made soft baby noises as she reached out to touch the thing that seemed so new and fascinating to her young eyes.

"Look there!" I said to her, pointing at the elegant writing on the front. "It is from your papa!"

"Look at her." Oliver whispered. "She perked up instantly as though she knows exactly who you spoke about."

I glanced over at him before giving Melody my attention again. "I believe she knows more than you think. Babies are smarter than most people give them credit for."

"Aye." he nodded. "Perhaps they are. Might I hold her?"

I eased my baby in Oliver's waiting arms, and couldn't help but stare at the two for a few moments. They got on quite well, more so than one would think a young man, aged five and ten, would. He held her close to his body and stroked her soft, now deeper brown hair before placing a kiss on her little forehead. I watched them closely before remembering the letter in my hands, and opened it and began to read silently.

_My darling,_

_It has been eight weeks, which makes up two months, I believe, give or take. Don't worry about the amount of time it takes you to write back to me. As long as I get word from you, I am happy. You have good excuses, as well. I'm certain our little girl is growing much, and you certainly must be very busy taking care of her._

_You say you have an illness, my love? Is it anything like the sicknesses you had on the island? Tell me more about it, and I'll do everything in my power to get anything you need to cure it. Don't be afraid, my love. I will make my way to you as fast as I can, and then I will be able to help you through it. All I can say right now, darling, is get plenty of rest, eat plenty of fruit and vegetables, and drink much water. I can't tell you how sorry I am that I can't be with you in this difficult time. Being out here, away from you, is like slow, agonizing torture._

_We draw closer and closer to the enemy each day, if that helps you to feel any better. We were a bit delayed, due to storms, but we've quickly found our pace again, and I'm doing everything I can to make sure we get to this blasted pirate threat as quickly as possible. So, to answer your question, the voyage is going somewhat well. We've not had anymore brawls aboard the ship, so hopefully that tells me I've solved that problem._

_I am pleased to hear that Oliver is doing well at his temporary job. He is still doing well with it, yes? If he isn't, he'll have me to answer to. But, I know I don't have to worry about that. He is a good lad, and I expect he'll stay out of trouble._

_I must go now, my love. I have duties that can no longer be neglected, or I'll have a mutiny on my hands. I cannot tell you how much I love you. My words simply cannot express it. When I return, I will allow my actions to show you my feelings. Look forward to it, love, because I certainly do. I would like to tell you things I have planned, but I fear they are far too inappropriate to write down. Just know that I love you. Again, I apologize for not being able to be with you while you are ill. I'm doing everything in my power to get back to you quickly. I must go now, darling. There are things that must be tended to, and I cannot ignore them any longer._

_Your love,_

_James_

"What does he say?"

Oliver's voice shook me from my thoughts, and I remembered where I was again. I blinked a few times, and looked over at him. "I apologize. I didn't hear what you said, sweetheart."

"The letter. What did father say?" he said quietly.

"Oh." I smiled. What could I tell him? Most of the letter was James telling of his concerns, and...things that should only be shared between James and I. "He...he is pleased to hear of how well you are doing at taking care of us, and he hopes you will continue to do that, and stay out of trouble."

"Good job?" he mumbled quietly, thinking I hadn't heard him.

My smile slowly faded, and I reached up to stroke his cheek with the backs of my fingers. "You're doing quite well, Oliver."

"I've been getting in trouble." he said softly as he allowed Melody to play with his hand.

I sighed. So he hadn't gotten over it after all. "That wasn't your fault, Oliver."

"Yes, it was." he said without missing a beat. "I didn't have to react to their words. I should have continued walking."

"Yes, you should have." I told him gently. "But, you've been doing a splended job of providing for your family. Every morning, you make sure we have plenty of food and firewood. You keep the staff happy by making light jokes, and you see to it that they stay in that mood. You make sure there is plenty of feed for the animals, and you even help groom the horses.

"You've been doing me large favors by getting up in the mornings to take care of Melody when she needs to be changed and fed. I haven't even requested you to do any of the things you do, darling! You just do them. Most young men your age don't care about anything that goes on around them, unless it affects them. You're doing a wonderful job. I'm very proud of you." I smiled.

Oliver didn't say anything, but returned my smile.

It was then that I felt a strange sensation at the back of my throat, and I began to cough. It started out as a little cough, but grew, and it felt as though I couldn't stop it. I hunched over a bit and coughed away from my son and daughter, and struggled to regain my breath after the coughing fit was over.

"Are you alright, Mum?" Oliver asked.

I could tell he'd tried to hide it, but I'd heard the worry in Oliver's voice. Had I really been coughing that hard? "I'm alright, Oliver." I whispered. "I just feel a bit weak, is all."

"Here." he said as he placed Melody back in my arms. "Hold on to her."

I held my baby securely, and didn't have time to ask what he was going to do before Oliver lifted me up into his arms and began walking toward the mannor. "Really, Oliver, I'm alright. I can walk back to the mannor."

"No, Mum. You look pale. Let me carry you."

* * *

"Sir, do you have a moment?"

Setting my quill down tiredly, I looked up at my open cabin door, and found Lieutenant Theodore Groves, otherwise known as my brother-in-law, standing just behind the threshold. "Come in." I nodded.

He shut the door quietly behind him and took a seat in front of my desk, removing his tricornered hat as he did so.

I furrowed my brows as I folded my hands atop my desk. "Are you feeling alright, Theodore?"

He smiled. I only called him Theodore when we were on brotherly terms. We were no longer officers. He was no longer a lieutenant. I was no longer and admiral or his superior officer. We were just brother-in-laws.

"Perfectly fine, sir."

"Liar." I mumbled loud enough for him to hear. With an inward smirk I reached in the bottom left drawer of my desk and removed a bottle of brandy and a glass.

Theodore chuckled lightly and took one of the glasses once I filled them, and took a small sip. "I'm not the only one lying. You're not fine and dandy either."

I also took a sip of brandy, and quirked my brows at him. "I think both of us know why." I told him quietly. "I think you have the same problem."

Whatever cheerfulness had been in Theodore's eyes vanished, and he nodded, taking a larger sip of brandy. "My wedding was suposed to be this week."

I drained my small glass and put the bottle back in the drawer, so as to avoid temptation, and gave my friend a sympathetic gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Sir!"

The loud voice in and sudden opening of my cabin door caused me to wince, and send a glare toward the door, only to find Gillett there. "We've spotted a ship, Sir. Quite large. Nearly the size of our Man-of-War!"

A pirate ship the size of a Man-of-War? Perhaps this pirate threat was worse than I'd thought it would be. "I want all men to stations, now! Load the cannons!"

In only seconds I was on my feet and out the door, followed by Theodore and Gillett. Just as expected, a large, and I mean very large pirate ship awaited us. "Where is Sparrow?" I asked in my no-nonsense-tone.

"Last I saw, he was headed below deck." Gillett answered.

"Go fetch him." I growled.

As this task was being carried out, I removed my spyglass from my coat pocket and studied the crew of the other ship. Many of the men were tall, but very skinny, their bodies covered in what appeared to be rags. I searched in frustration for the captain, or someone who appeared to be captain, but found none.

"Oi!"

The sudden shout to my left caught my attention, and upon looking in that direction I found Sparrow being led onto the deck by two of my marines. I couldn't help but role my eyes as Sparrow was deposited beside me. "Which one is he?" I snapped, shoving my spyglass in his hands.

The spyglass jumped around on Sparrow's fingertips before he was finally able to wrap his fingers around it and clutch it to his chest for fear of dropping it. "No need to throw things, mate." he mumbled. He then put the spyglass to his eye and peered at the other ship for a moment, and shook his head. "He isn't there."

"What do you mean, not there?" I questioned with a scowl. "Not on the ship?"

"No, mate." he said with his brows furrowed. "He very rarely goes to his cabin. He's usually the one at the wheel, mate. Very unusual not to see him out and about the deck."

"Would you like to know why he's not on the deck?" A rough voice asked from behind us.

I turned to find a man in a very dirty marine coat, with a long, matted black beared.

"I'm the captain of that ship." he smiled. "If you want to live, you'll surrender now."

**Cliffhanger! Sorry, I know it's mean. But, I'm keeping you hooked, right? Anyway, I apologize if this chapter didn't make much sense. I'm basically running on rock music and caffine due to a late night of homework. Darn those major homework projects! Lol! Anyway, please review! Thanks!**


	25. Calmly Panicked

I do not own Pirates of Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

"Aye! You heard me right, Admiral." The pirate captain said smugly as he shrugged out of the filthy marine coat...a marine coat stained with blood, which meant one of my men was dead somewhere aboard my ship...or in the depths of the sea. "If you value your life, surrender now."

My right hand twitched, trying to reach for my gun without being noticed, but to no avail.

"Try it," The captain said, drawing his own pistol and pointing it between my eyes, "And I'l blow your intelligent little brains all over this nice, clean deck. As a matter of fact, I want you and your other two officers to give me yours and their weapons. Boys!" The captain called over his shoulder, "Assist these fine men in relieving themselves of their weapons."

To my dismay, and Theodore's and Andrew's, three men, also dirty and dressed in marine uniforms, came forward and pat us down after removing our obvious swords and pistols.

"How long have you been under disguise on my crew?" I asked the man that was patting me down.

"Ever since I heard news of what you did to Davis." he said bitterly.

I furrowed my brows and flicked my gaze to the captain, who still had his pistol pressed between my eyes.

The captain laughed, his laugh sounding very much like he was trying to breathe after someone had slit his throat, and pressed the pistol harder between my eyes. "You donn't even know who I am, do you boy?"

I studied him for a moment, but came up with nothing.

Noticing the blankness on my expression, the captain chuckled. "Captain John Davis was my brother, of which your murdered. I'm George Davis, otherwise known as 'Ghastly George'. Sound familiar?"

Upon examining the man further, I found that his eyes were the same shade of dark brown, nearly black, just like Davis's had been. His hair was a black, the only difference from his brother other than his tangled black beared, and he wore the same smugness on his lips as Davis had when I'd practically been thrown at his feet, bruised, battered, and bleeding. The nickname was also familiar, and was given to him well, for his victoms were usually left in a ghastly state, and usually found dead when he was done with them.

"Ah. I see! Now you know of whom you're speaking with!" George cackled. "Now then. Well done, Mr. Sparrow!" he went on to say. "You made this plan much easier by simply bringing the man to me!"

With shocked and very, very, enraged eyes, I turned to look and Jack, who seemed to shrink in size upon meeting my gaze.

He looked away from me and to George, not even offering a hint of a smile. "It's Captain, mate. Captain Jack Sparrow." he muttered.

George seemed very amused at Sparrow's actions, and stepped forward with a chuckle deep in his throat. "Oh, now is Captain Sparrow still upset over the fact that I scared him into a deal? Well, in your own words, Sparrow. Pirate." Flicking his eyes back to me, George took the pistol from between my eyes, and promptly punched me in the face, knocking my hat and wig off of my head and into the sea, exposing my cropped, slightly lighter brown hair. "Already feeling better." he mumbled.

I watched with pure fury and hatred as the man turned to my crew, who all wore a mixture of shocked, enraged, and some, scared expressions. I wanted to lunge at him, but one of the pirates dressed as a marine pressed a bayonet to my throat, just daring me to move.

"Gents!" he called out to my crew, his arms open as though he was expecting someone to hug him. "If any one of you wishes to live, you'll put your weapons down and remove your red coats. However! Those of you who wish to not commit treason against the crown and join my crew, will be shot and fed to the fish. That being said, who wishes to join my crew?"

I felt both surprised and betrayed when most of my men gave up their weapons and removed their coats before walking to the other men that had disguised themselves as marines.

"Is that all?" George called out.

Not a man moved that still wore a red coat.

"You can't do this!" I shouted in anger. "Those are good, innocent men! You can't just shoot them out of pleasure!"

George rounded on me quickly, though his eyes held amusement. "Oh, I believe I can."

"Take them prisoner." I suggested hotly. "Lock them in the brig, use them relentlessly as deck hands, but don't shoot them in cold blood and serve them to the fish."

George stared long and hard at me, thinking, wondering what to do. Finally, he turned to the men that had surrenedered and joined his crew. "All of you Navy rats that have joined my crew will show their loyalty to me by bounding the remainder of Navy men and tossing them in the brig. Anyone that refuses will face the consequences. Oh and while you're at it, I need three former Navy rats to bound their former superior officers around the wrists with rope."

I found myself thrown brutally against the railing of the starboard side, and my arms pulled painfully tight behind my back as ropes suddenly knawed at the skin on my wrists.

"Admiral, do you have children?" George asked once I was turned around again. "Don't lie to me. I heard quite some time ago of the adoption."

"Then why bother in asking?" I growled.

George smirked. "I just wanted to make sure."

George's heavy boot landed hard in my groin area, causing a pained gasp to pass my lips as I crashed to the deck on my knees. Was I ever to have more than just one child that was actually my flesh blood, now that that event had occured? I didn't have much time to think on that subject due to the fact that I was grabbed roughly beneath the arms and dragged across the board that had been placed between our ships, my legs still tightly together, trying to ease my pain.

Shortly after, I found myself being thrown into a very dark, damp cell. Two other bodies were flung atop mine, followed by others that landed very near me.

"Apologies, Sir." Theodore said once the cell door had been closed. "They threw me atop you, along with Andrew."

"Not to worry." I choked out, still in pain in...that certain area.

I closed my eyes and curled up in a ball, some of the pain having left, but not all of it, and began thinking. I began to think of my family, my loving wife, my sweet daughter, and my young son, who would inherit Norrington Manner and the miles of land with it. I began to wonder if I would ever see them again, ever hear their voices again.

"Sir?"

I turned my head slowly toward the direction of the voice, and found it was one of my men in the cell next to mine.

"My name is Adams, Sir." he said quietly. "I wish to thank you, Sir. I have family as well; three children and a wife. Maybe...Maybe we can get out of this. Perhaps we can see our families again. We have to try."

I couldn't help the small smirk that pulled at my lips. "I've not given up yet."

* * *

Melody was crying relentlessly. I couldn't blame the poor girl, though. It was raining very badly outside, along with thunder and lightning.

"Shh little one. You're safe. Mummy has you." I soothed as I cradled her against my chest. "It is just a bad storm. You'll be alright."

"Is there anything I can do?"

I looked up upon hearing the sweet voice, and found Isabella standing in the doorway of the nursery. She'd come to visit a few hours prior to the horrible weather, and didn't wish to leave while it was so heavy.

"I'm afraid not." I said tiredly. "I've tried everything. I tried to breast feed, but she didn't want it. I offered my finger for her to gum, and got the same result. She doesn't need to be changed, and cooing and singing hasn't worked. I don't know what is wrong." After a few moments of thinking, my voice became laced with panic. "Oh, Bella! What if she is ailing? Where could I find a doctor in such weather?!"

"Calm down, Cherie." Isabella smiled. "Panic won't help. Let's just think for a moment. You've tried to feed her?"

"Yes." I answered.

"You've tried to allow her to gum on something?"

"Yes."

"Her diaper isn't dirty?"

"No." I replied, shaking my head.

"Perhaps she just can't sleep. It is very common for new-borns to find it difficult to fall into a normal sleeping pattern, especially with weather as bad as this."

I eased myself down in a chair near my baby's bassinet, and wrapped the light pink blanket a bit more smuggly around her. "Perhaps you are right." I whispered. "It is fairly common."

I swallowed hard, for I felt very weak, and tired. My last coughing fit had taken all of my energy from me, and I discovered only a few hours prior to Melody's crying that I've lost a lot of weight. I'm certain I looked very frail to anyone that looked at me...and I felt that way, too.

"Mum?"

When had Oliver appeared in the room? How long had he been standing in the doorway after Isabella had come to my side?

"Mum, are you alright? You're very pale." he said as he crossed the room, not stopping until he'd reached my side as well. "You really should be in bed, Mum, you're still weak."

I smiled gently at my son. "I am alright, Oliver. I want to stay awake until Melody falls alseep."

"No...he's right, Cherie. You do look very pale. Perhaps you should go to bed." Isabella said, concern also in her voice.

I looked back and forth between Isabella and Oliver, my expression twisting into one of concern as well. "I can't just go to bed and hope she'll stop." I said softly. "I have to soothe her pain...I can't think of myself while she's apparently uncomfortable about something."

"I'll stay up with her." Isabella smiled. "You need rest. It helps more than you think. Go on to bed, Cherie. I'll not rest until she does."

I reluctantly allowed Isabella to take my crying Melody from my arms, and was slightly surprised when Oliver lifted me. "I can walk." I told him.

"You're weak." he answered simply. "I don't want to risk the chance of you falling down."

He eased me on my bed with care, and even pulled the covers gently to the base of my neck.

"Must you treat me like a child?" I jested in a soft whisper.

He smiled lightly at me while he stroked my hair back from my face. "I'm only doing what you did for me when I was sick." he paused for a moment. "Besides, you need someone to take care of you for a while. You've been doing that for us for too long."

I chuckled, but did nothing more as he continued to stroke my hair. "I miss him so much." I finally whispered.

"I know." he whispered back. "He'll be here soon, don't worry."

I sighed. "Where is my James?" I said, voicing my thoughts. "Where is he? Why must he do these things?" I said, becoming more upset.

"Shhh Mum." Oliver soothed. "This isn't good for your health. You must relax."

I felt my body shake as tears rolled down my cheeks. Oliver laid down beside me and pulled me against his strong, slightly larger frame, enveloping me in a warm embrace as he placed a kiss on my forehead. He began to whisper things to me, but I didn't hear them, for I was too upset and lost in my own thoughts. Something felt very wrong, and I couldn't help but worry over my James as sleep finally overtook my weak and tired body.

**So, James and his men have been taken hostage by the deceased _Davis's _brother, and Chrissy grows sicker still. Could it get any worse for them? Review and you'll find out! Please review! Thank you!**


	26. Miss You

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

"If you could please pass me that bucket of water, Mr. Springs."

Two weeks we'd been locked away in the brig, in those little cells. The men, of which lives I'd saved were being called out nearly every day to scrub the deck or do other such things. But when they came back, oh, what a site they were. Some of them came back filthy, but otherwise in good condition. Others, however, looked to be abused to the highest degree, and near death. So far, four of my men have died from poor treatment.

"Here, Sir. This is as close as I can get it to you." The sailor said, pressing the bucket to the bars separating us in our cells.

I was trying to take care of one of my latest abused men. Not even a man, but a boy. He was but ten years of age, a cabin boy, and had had the fire beaten out of him. Not his face or his front, but his back. He hadn't been wipped or thrown around, but beaten with a blunt instrument of some sort. His back was a mess. It was bruised, bloddied, and had wounds that, if he lived, would leave horrible scars.

"Here, Admiral." Another sailor piped up. "It can serve as a rag."

Upon reaching through the bars, I found that the offered piece of cloth was a clean shirt sleeve that had been ripped from said sailor's shirt. I took it with a nod and a mumbled 'thank you', before soaking it and applying it gently to the open wounds.

"Easy, lad." I said gently when the boy flinched, and sighed upon examining one of the worst of the wounds. "I need someone to hold him down."

"Why? What are you going to do?" The lad panicked. He tried to get up, but his weak arms and legs failed him, and he flopped back down on the damp floor of the cell.

"Just stay calm, lad." A sailor, whom I knew as Mullroy, said as he voluntarily ventured to the lad and pinned his arms down. "We'll be finished before you know it."

Another sailor, Murtogg, also ventured forward and pinned the lad's legs down. "He's right, lad. The Admiral will be finished in no time."

When I was certain the lad was held down securely, I began to clean the heavily dirtied wounds with the soacked rag. The lad squirmed and grunted, and even cried out, but Mrtogg and Mullroy held him steady. Other sailors in the cell who'd been watching the event came to the lad as well, and aided Murtogg and Mullroy in keeping the lad pinned down, and also put in a few words of comfort.

"Steady, lad." I said in a calm voice. "I'm nearly done."

Thanks to the helping hands of my men, I finished cleaning the lad's wounds in a matter of minutes. The lad, who was exhausted after all of this, offered a weak thank you, before promptly falling asleep.

I, having nothing else to do after cleaning my hands, stood and made my way to the ceel door, and leaned against the bars. It was there that I saw Jack Sparrow and some of his crew in the cell across from mine, and scowled at him after actually daring to look at him for the first time in the two weeks we'd been locked up.

"Mate." he nodded, offering a weak, gold-toothed grin.

"Trial or not," I gritted out, "I will watch you hang. You're the reason these fine men and boys are dying."

"Time and tide, mate. I'm a pirate, and did what I had to to save my neck." he said quietly.

"Mark my words, Mr. Sparrow. You will suffer the consequences for the deaths of the lives on my crew." I growled at him."

"Here, here!" Some of my men chimed in behind me.

Sparrow only grinned. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, mates!" he laughed. "I'll find a way out of this mess!"

"I'll watch you hang by your own striped sash first!" A sailor in the cell next to mine shouted.

"Aye!" Another sailor agreed.

"Huzza!" Said another.

I couldn't help but smile inwardly at the reactions Sparrow was getting from my crew. Perhaps I wasn't the only man on the ship wanting to strangle the pirate right on the spot.

"And we'll murder you Navy bastards before you get the chance!" One of the pirates shouted back.

Soon enought the brig was filled with heated shouts and threats between my Navy crew and sparrow's pirate crew, and all the while I only glared at Sparrow while he grinned.

"Shut up, you scurvy bastards! Shut up!"

Both crews became silent when a man from George's crew shouted, and fired his pistol.

"You!" he said, pointing one of his filthy fingers at me. "Captain wants to have a word with you."

Before I could say or do anything, I was roughly removed from my cell, and nearly shoved against the bars of another cell had I not caught myself. Immediately after this even both crews broke the silence with more heated shouts. The pirate crew shouted that I hadn't been handled roughly enough, while my crew shouted that I was handled too roughly. The man from George's crew only ignored them, however, and put shackles on my wrists.

"Easy men." I told them quietly as I was so roughly ushered down the semi-slimy hall.

The smell of the fresh, ocean breeze blowing gently on my face was a relief compared to the stuffy, dank, mold-smelling air of the brig. I tilted my chin up and took in a good whiff before the pirate shoved me across the actually well-kept deck, all the way to the captain's cabin, where the pirate knocked, and then shoved me in upon hearing the captain give the order.

The cabin was quite large, with many windows; a nice view of the sea, really. A large bed was pushed in the upper left corner, nice-sized desk in the upper right corner, and a dining table overflowing with maps, all manner of food, rubbish, and weapons.

Geoarge was standing near the table, a leering grin caressing his lips. "Admiral. So nice to see you again."

"It doesn't go both ways, I assure you." I replied bitterly.

George chuckled, and stepped forward to 'examine' me, so to say. "Still a fiesty bastard after all this time, aye?" he said as he traced a scar on my shoulder.

It was so humid down in the brig that I, along with my men, had removed my coat, waistcoat, cravat, and unbuttoned my shirt to about my abdomen. Some of the men had taken it so far as to remove their shirts, but I, obviously, had chosen not to. Now then. In the course of taking care of the lad's wounds, my shirt had gone a bit crooked, and revealed most of my scarred right shoulder.

"Always in an uptight, stuffy mood." he chuckled, circling me. "Your men don't seem to resent me as much as you do."

"My men aren't aware of the things you've done to women and children." I growled. "They aren't aware of the damage you did when you used to sail with your brother."

"Oh! That was just a bit of fun!" he laughed. "Now if you're done living the past, Admiral, we have a few things to discuss."

To my very slight surprise, George motioned for me to sit at the table. I did so grudgingly, and eyes the food curiously as my stomach growled.

"Eat, Admiral, and we'll discuss our little proposition."

"I won't dine while my men are starving in the brig." I muttered.

"Ah! Quite the honorable man, aren't you?!" he roared with laughter. "WEll then, if you're not hungry.."

I found myself being jerked to my feet, and in the middle of the room once again.

"Remove your shirt." he said.

I furrowed my brows, and started to object, when he pulled out that pistol he so seemed to favor. With a growl I untucked my shirt and unbuttoned it the rest of the way, then allowed it to slide off of my shoulders and into a tangled half circle that started and stopped at each of my elbows.

"Strong back, I see." The captain muttered.

I stiffened when the man went behindme, and traced individual scars on my exposed skin. The man was really irritating me, and if he didn't stop soon I was going to lunge at him.

"so it is true." he said. "He did beat you. John had a battle wound in his right arm, one he recieved from you, I believe, which caused him to strike a certain pattern on his viticms, very similar on different ones that came across him and were fortunate, or unfortunate, for that matter, to live to show them off. Now then. While you're half undressed..."

My body was flung across the room so quickly that my head began to spin. Sharp rods of pain across my back told me that I was being struck with something long, stiff, and blunt. When my senses came back to me, I rolled across the floor, several feet away from the pirate, and got to my feet as quickly as I could. Only then did I see that the blunt instrument wasn't really blunt at all, but a young sapling that appeared to be three feet long, very thin, and had a knot at the end where the roots had been pulled from the base of the plant.

Angered, George threw a plate full of food at me. I barely dodged it, and heard it shatter not far behind me. In an act of desperation, I turned the table over, and by this time another crew member had entered (one of my former crewmemebers, might I add), with a daggar in each hand.

I took advantage of the short moment of which the pirate captain and crew member were distracted and grabbed a chair, holding it in their directions. "Stay back!" I yelled.

The two stared at me, wide-eyed, before George roared with that strangled-sounding laugh of his. "A chair, Admiral? You plan to fight two armed pirates with a chair?"

"I wouldn't put it past him, Sir." The crewmember said. "He's full of surprises. He could do anything with that chair!"

"Oh?" George asked. "Well then, why don't you go see what he can do instead of standing there like an idiot!" he growled, throwing the man by the collar at me.

The man stuck the daggars out in front of him, but they did him no good. I broke the chair over his head before he had a chance to do anything. With that crewman unconsious and out of the way, I looked back to Ghastly George, only to find him leaping at me, knife in hand. I didn't have any time to react before the man was on me, his knife at my throat after I'd fallen on the ground, my arms pinned beneath him.

"Oh, I love it when my victims make it so much harder on themselves!" he smirked. "If you had just sat down and shut up, we could have avoided all of this. Now then. I have something I want to tell you."

I nodded grudgingly for him to continue.

"Now as you know, you are a very important pawn for the Crown. A pawn that the Crown would be very willing to pay money for...A lot of money." he smiled. "Especially considering the fact that that brain of yours contains vital information about the Admiralty, and other such things. So..." he said, shifting his weight atop me, "I'm going to write a letter to the Crown, and you're going to write a letter to your lovely."

Grudgingly, I took the quill and parchment that he offered me, and began to write.

* * *

I was floating. I was drifting to who knew where in the Caribbean ocean, and I had no control over it.

"How is she?"

Well, it felt that way.

"I can't tell if she's coming or going."

My head was swimming, and I couldn't tell the difference between floating on the ocean, or floating on a sea of bed sheets.

"How long has she been like this?"

"What do you mean? Sick, or delirious?"

My pulse was randomly speeding up and slowing down, and I could tell that sweat had broken out on my forehead.

"Both, Oliver! How long has she been this way?!"

"She's been sick since James left on his voyage. She's been delirious for the past few days."

"Why hasn't a doctor been here?"

"There has been! Several times! They thought she was still weak from child birth. When they figured out it wasn't that, they tried to bleed her. She hasn't wanted them near her since then."

I could vaguely tell that footsteps were nearing me, and then I could feel a cool hand on my forehead. "James..." I whispered.

"No, darling. It's Philip, and Isabella is on the other side of the bed. We're going to help Oliver take care of you and the baby."

"Baby..." I whispered. "Where is my baby? My Melody...Little Melody..."

"She's in her nursery just down the hall, darling. She'll be fine." Philip answered.

"What is wrong with me?" I whimpered.

Philip sighed. "We don't know. All we know is that it isn't contagious, because we've all been in contact with you, and we're fine. We're going to find out what is wrong, don't worry."

My body jerked when another hand was touched my face. I realized that hand was smaller, and smoother. A woman's hand, perhaps?

"You're running fever, cherie. You need water."

Ah. Isabella. I relaxed upon finding out it was another person I actually knew. Doctors, however, were a different story. No doctors. They didn't need to be anywhere near me.

I tensed upon feeling myself being sat up. My body was so stiff, so sore. I couldn't really keep my eyes open either. My eyelids just felt so heavy that I couldn't open them to see the glass of water coming toward my lips. I had to feel the cool glass touch me first, and then feel the water once the glass had been tipped. I raised my hands slightly when I'd gotten my fill of water, and then winced once more when I was eased back down.

"James..." I whispered. "Where are you, James? Why did you have to leave?"

The last things I heard were my own slurred, twisted words before I fell into a deep, uneasy sleep.

**Okay, I'm _reeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaalllllllyyyyyyyyyy _sorry for taking so long to update. You all know my excuses. School gets really crazy at this time of the year, and life. Anyway. Poor Chrissy! Will she make through? Will James get back to her before she passes, if she does pass? If you review you'll find out! Please review! Thank you!**


	27. Escapes: Part One

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied. Furthermore, I do not own the song, 'A Pirate's Life for Me'.

* * *

"I'm not going to tell her." I said heatedly. "She's in bad enough health as it is! It will break her!"

"He's her husband! She has a right to know!" Isabella argued back. "There is a possability that it will maker her stronger, more detirmined!"

"Get your head out of the clouds! It won't-"

"Stop this immediately! You two are acting like children, and Oliver, I will not stand for your speaking to my daughter like that!" Alexander scolded from the doorway of James's study. "There is a very ill, young woman upstairs, and hearing shouting and arguing isn't going to help. The both of you should be ashamed!" he said a bit calmer.

Both of us hung our heads like children that had been caught with our hands in the sweets jar.

"Now," he said, completely calm, "What is the item in question that you wish to or not to give to Chrissy?" he said, holding his hand out.

I looked at Isabella, and then at the letter in my hand, before placing it in Alexander's large palm. He took it with a sincere 'thank you' and opened the folded, faded piece of parchment, and began to read silently. His brow creased with confusion, before turning to sheer concern and worry. I looked over at Isabella, who wore the same expression, looking exactly like her father. I could tell that both of them were pondering ways they could tell Chrissy what was going on.

"So...who will be the bearer of bad news to the ill, young woman upstairs?" I asked quietly, breaking the silence as Alexander dejectedly set the letter aside.

A sigh passed his lips, and he removed his gray wig to wearily run a hand through his cropped, deep brown hair. "I volunteer." he told us, placing his wig on James's desk.

Despite our earlier argument, I took Isabella by the hand before following Alexander slowly up the staircase. I couldn't help but notice how all of our footsteps were sluggish, and heavy. I wondered if Alexander and Isabella knew just as I did that if Chrissy got too upset over the bad news, she could die due to her already struggling heart.

Mum was, unsurprisingly, laying in her bed when we entered her room. This time, though, she was laying on her side, her hand resting lightly on her babie's back. At our somber expressions, the frail smile, the first smile that I'd seen on mum's face in who knew how long, wilted. "Why do you all look upset?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

I was the first to step away from our small group, and placed myself lightly on mum's mattress. Alexander followed my example shortly after, taking a seat on the other side. Isabella walked forward and gently scooped up Melody and sat near the foot of the bed.

"I am afraid I have some unfortunate news." Alexander said quietly.

Chrissy, who was still slightly delirious, furrowed her brows, and struggled into a sitting position. "Wh-what is it? What has h-happened?"

I looked away sadly when her eyes found mine, and began to rub her back, I could tell that this wasn't going to be easy.

"I..." Alexander sighed. "There aren't any easy ways to say this, dear, so I am just going to say it. James and his crew have been captured by the pirate threat, and are being held for ransom. If the ransom isn't seen to, starting next month, they will begin...executing crew members. I am sorry, dear." he said softly.

I watched mum for a moment, wondering if her delirium was interfearing with her understanding of what Alexander had told her, because she wasn't reacting.

She was reacting, however, it had just taken me longer than it should have to realize it. If one looked closely at mum's neck, one could see the vain her neck was pulsing much more rapidly than it should have been, thus showing one that her pulse had quickened.

"Mum?" I asked loudly and clearly. "Mum, calm down! Deep breaths, Mum! Breathe!" I said urgently as I eased her down on her side again. "Mum, just relax. Everything is going to be alright."

I watched with dread as mum's body began to tremble, and tears finally made their way down her cheeks. Her breathing became labored, and her hands clutched at her chest. Not knowing what else to do, I eased myself down in front of her and pulled her hands away from her chest and onto mine, and pulled her tightly to me, trying to make it impossible for her to hurt herself.

"Why did I let him go? Why didn't I beg him to stay?!" she wailed.

"Shh..." I soothed. "None of this is your fault. You know James, we've all heard the stories about the miraculous 'Scurge of Piracy'. He'll make his way back to you, I know he will."

"I shouldn't have let him go." she continued mumbling. "My fault. I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have..."

When she only continued mumbling, I knew she was lost in her own little world once more. I sighed shakily and stroked her hair, mumbling what I hoped were comforting things in her ears.

"I won't let anything happen." I whispered with detirmination.

* * *

"James." I whispered with a smile from within those warm, strong arms.

The figure holding me grunted slightly, and shifted. I shifted as well, and furrowed my brows. It wasn't like James to not say anything to me, or not show me affection. I reached up and stroked his face, and whispered a bit louder, "James."

Again, the figure holding me only repeated his actions.

Confused, I sat up, those warm arms falling from around me, and squinted at the figure's face through the darkness. To my surprise, James wasn't James at all; it was Oliver. I sat back as a sigh of depression passed my lips, and stared off into the darkness of the room. I must have cried myself to sleep, and Oliver must have fallen asleep whilst comforting me.

When was this going to end? When would my James come back to me? Frankly, this was getting rediculous. My earlier saddness was gone, and was replaced with anger. Three months. Three months I'd laid in bed sick, and two weeks I'd been...crazy, I guess you could say.

I still felt a bit crazy, or delirious, whichever one would prefer to call it. My head still felt a bit light, and my heartbeat still increased or decreased when it pleased. I didn't care, however. I was angry, and I wanted to go for a walk. I shakily got to my feet and stumbled to the changing screen in the corner. My body was trembling badly, as though I'd been thrown in a glacier infested ocean, which made it very difficult to get dressed. But, detirmination can take a person very far. Before I knew it, I was dressed in a simple pair of black breeches, and a faded, cream-colored shirt.

I grabbed a ribbon on my way out of the bedroom, and tied my hair back when I reached the top of the staircase; and oh, how intimidating the staircase looked! My vision was slightly blurred, going in and out of focus, making it difficult for me to clearly see the rectangular steps that led down to the main floor. I bent my knees a bit to make myself a few inches shorter (and closer to the floor), and grasped the finely smoothed and polished banister, and began to slowly make my way down.

When my bare feet finally touched the smooth, wooden floor, I noticed light flooding from James's study and out in the hall, like rich butter being poured over a pancake. Brows furrowed, I crept down the hall silently, like a predator fixated on its prey, and peeked around the doorframe of my beloved's study. It appeared that Alexander, Isabella, and Philip were having a conversation as they sat near the lit hearth, the flames sending their shadows dancing across the walls. Why were they all still up? What could they possibly be talking about? I flattned myself against the wall near the door, stressing my ears to pick up anything they said.

"But how are we going to pay the ransom?" Isabella said, voicing her worry. "He hasn't given us enough time!"

"I know!" Alexander groaned as he rubbed his temples. "I don't know, darling. We must try, though. I am very detirmined that James is going to get back to his wife, and is going to see his daughter again. The poor child has only known her father for a few hours."

"And we have Chrissy's health to consider." Philip added. "I think if we could get James back, she could pull through."

The three adults paused upon hearing the soft sound of a baby cooing, and so did I. Due to my blurred vision, I hadn't been able to see Melody laying quietly in Isabella's lap. I couldn't help the swell of pride in my chest at little Melody's soft baby sounds. It made her sound as though she was putting in her own thoughts on the matter. In fact, she cooed and made other sounds for quite a while as though she was trying desperately to tell something to the three adults, before she began crying.

I pressed myself hard against the wall as my heart began to ache for my baby. What would they do if I stumbled into the room, my arms outstretched to her? What would they do if I got down on my knees at Isabella's feet, asking if I could please hold my baby? One of the men would lift me from the floor and carry me back to bed, that's what. They would carry me back to bed, and tell me that I needed rest, that I was ill, and that Melody was in perfectly good hands.

"Shh, little one." Isabella cooed. "You're alright. You're perfectly alright here, with us."

Defiantly, Melody cried louder, as though telling the woman, _"No, no I am not!"_

Suddenly, I didn't care that one of the men would carry me back to my bed, I didn't care if they told me I was ill, and I didn't care if they told me that I needed rest, that Melody was in perfectly good hands. My baby was crying for a more familiar face, for familiar arms...her mother or father's face and arms. With a deep, reassuring breath, I stumbled slowly into the room. The three adults looked up at me like startled animals, taking in my clothing and pale skin, and, just as I knew they would, the two men started walking in my direction.

"Baby..." I mumbled weakly to them.

After a brief exchange of glances between Alexander and Philip, Alexander nodded, and the two men took me gently by the arms and helped me to one of the three settees. A few moments later, Melody was eased gently in my arms, and I couldn't help but smile when her crying eased to small hiccups.

"There, now." I whispered against her little forehead. "I'm here, sweetheart, stop your crying."

Though my eyes were closed, I could tell Alexander was shooing the young couple out of the room, and I was thankful for it, for my eyes were burning with tears. When I heard the doors close, I allowed myself to cry softly against my babie's blanket-covered belly.

* * *

After accomplishing the task of convincing Philip and Isabella to leave the room, I turned tiredly to Chrissy. The poor woman seemed dazed, and I found myself wondering once again what on earth was causing her illness. She'd seemed fine until James had left, and then everything had gone down hill from there.

Shaking my head, I sat down next to her, and began rubbing her back in long, slow strokes. "Chrissy, have you any idea what may have caused your illness?"

Chrissy looked up me with her seemingly drunken gaze, and shook her head. "N-no. But I ha...haven't eaten in days, and I f-feel much better."

"You feel better...since you haven't eaten?" I questioned.

She nodded. "Much."

Letting off another sigh I looked down at the softly cooing bundle in Chrissy's pale, weak arms, and smiled. "She's missed you."

For the first time in a while, Chrissy smiled, and dropped a kiss on the infant's forehead. "And I her." she stared at the infant for a few moments more, before bringing her dazed gaze to me again. "She looks and acts just like her father. Do you know where her father is?" Looking back down at her baby, she said, "We'll have to find him, aye? Yes, we just might have to go look for him." she murmured.

I shook my head sadly. She was talking to herself. Worst of all, she was speaking to herself about going to find James. That meant I, along with the others, would have to keep Chrissy under lock and key, like a prisoner.

"Chrissy, why don't we find you something to eat?" I suggested.

She shook her head slowly. "No. No food. No good." she mumured.

* * *

"Just take it easy, sir."

"You're doing well, sir, we're nearly finished."

These words and other sentences similar to that were spoken to me as I laid limply atop my officer's jacket. I'd taken a fairly bad beating from George to my back, which had left me too pained to move for quite a bit. My men were trying to take care of my wounds as I had their's, and were doing a fine job of it from what I could tell of the satisfied looks on Theodore's and Andrew's faces.

"How...How bad is it...exactly?" I grunted.

"Not bad, sir. We've cleaned more than half." Theodore answered before cleaning one of the wounds near my left shoulder.

"Oye! Dinner time, ya scum!"

I rolled my eyes. It was our 'animated' caterer.

"Dinner time, dinner time for the sea scum." he sang.

Our cell door was momentarily opened, and a bucket of stew was dropped on the filthy floor, causing some of its contents to splatter on both me and some of the men near me.

"Here ya go!" the pirate said, dropping a small cup for us all to drink from. "Yo ho, yo ho!" he sang once more as he shut our door, turning swiftly to Sparrow's cell. He repeated his actions with the other bowl of stew, before walking away at a quick pace. "Drink up me hearties, yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho! A pirate's life for me..."

As the pirate began to jog away, he didn't happen to hear the sound of his keys hitting the floor over his singing. Every man's eyes, on both Navy and pirate crew, were locked on the singing pirate. He hadn't stopped and realized his keys were missing!

"Oye, grab the keys!" Someone in my cell said urgently as Sparrow's crew began reaching for them.

"Don't let them get the keys!" One of the pirates said. "We'll never get out if the Navy scum get them!"

It must have been an amusing sight down there in the brig. Grown men and boys all locked up together were scrambling for the bars, reaching through, reaching as far as their limbs would go. I myself was included in this silly, yet vital task. Of course fate would have it that both Sparrow and I were the two closest to those blasted keys, us being the ones that had already been laying on the floor.

"Come along, sir!" Some of my men were saying. "Our lives depend on those keys!"

"Almost there!" Someone else said.

"Find something long we can use!" Said another.

I suddenly felt like an idiot. At least five minutes had passed of all of us trying to reach those wretched keys, and I'd been laying on my coat the entire time! "My coat!" I said to Theodore. "We can use the sleeves to get the keys closer!"

With a vigorous nod, Theodore yanked my coat from under me, and started tossing it atop the keys, trying to rake them closer.

"I got them!" Andrew shouted.

"Quiet! Get quiet!" Theodore hissed at the men. "George himself might come down here if he hears all of the shouting!"

"Plan! We need a plan, sir!" Andrew said in a voice that made me think he was going to piddle on himself.

"We need to calm down first." I said, wincing as I pulled myself to a standing position, and my shirt on my shoulders. "First things first, we get out and find weapons."

Vigorous nods from my men told me they were clinging to my every word.

"Second, we take Davis hostage. If we get the captain, we get control over the crew."

"Keep going..." An eager cabin boy said from beside me.

"Third, we get this ship turned around, and get to Port Royal with all haste."

"Aye!"

"Huzzah!"

"Here, here!" Came the whispered, but still excited replies from my men.

"And what do you plan to do about us?"

I gritted my teeth at the sound of Sparrow's voice, and turned around to face him. "What about you?"

"What makes you think me crew is going to remain silent through all of this?" Sparrow said with a grin. "Maybe we'll cause a ruckus."

"And where is that going to get us?" One of my crewman seethed.

"Exactly." Sparrow said. "That's why you should release us. We can help."

"And if I refuse to release you?" I asked in a heated tone.

"Like I said earlier, mate. You'll just have to allow us to help you, or none of us will be going anywhere." he replied seriously.

I could feel the right corner of my mouth twitching. Why, why must Sparrow always complicate situations?! I ran a hand angerly through my hair. I had a wife and baby to get to. I had to get out...I had to get home..."What if I assured you that you would recieve a pardon, along with your crew?"

Sparrow shook his head. "Not good enough, mate. I won't be locked up while there's fighting going on anywhere near me."

I glared at the man for a moment, grinding my teeth, pondering what to do. Sparrow seemed to hate George as much as I, along with his men.

"Sir, you're not actually considering..?" Andrew started.

A tug at my shirt tale distracted me momentarily from the tension, and I looked down, finding the young cabin boy staring at me with pleading eyes. "We are going to get out, aren't we, Admiral?"

I sighed lightly through my nose, taking in the boy's pleading gaze, and then looked around at the hopeful gazes of my men. "Andrew," I started. "Give me the keys."

**Could this be a possible escape? Could Alexander possibly find the root to Chrissy's illness? There's only one way to find out! Thank you to everyone that reviewed! Just do that again, and you'll be getting another update as soon as I can post one. **


	28. Escapes: Part Two

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies, you know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

"Let's go through the plan one more time." I said irritably.

It would be easy for one to see just exactly why I was irritated, if one was in my boots...er...bare feet, rather. Everyone wanted to be free, that's for certain, but they also wanted to just run out onto the deck in blind fury! It was certainly taking all of my military training to not shout at the lot before me.

"We've reviewed the plan more than enough times, Admiral. Let's just get on with it." Sparrow said, equally irritated. "Everything will go according to plan."

"You should know that nothing goes according to plan, Mr. Sparrow, when you're a Navyman, or in your position, a pirate." I spat. "The lot before me doesn't even seem to have paid one bit of attention to a word I've said."

"We cause a fuss," One of the pirates said boredly, "Which will cause a few of George's crew to come down and investigate, and when they're least expect it, we mug them of their weapons and invade the ship!"

"See?" Sparrow smirked. "We've got it. Why don't you get that stick out of your arse while we put the plan in motion?"

I did the one thing Sparrow hated most: I ignored him. I was listening to the sounds above us, waiting for the opportune moment. I concentrated so hard that I tuned out every man and sound around me in the brig, listening only to the footsteps of George's crew, waiting for quite a few of them to get near the opening to the brig.

"Now!" I finally shouted.

In only moments, it sounded like hell had broken out in the brig. Navymen and pirates were screaming at each other, banging on the bars, making whatever loud sound and ruccus they could make. I'm fairly certain people were throwing things at each other as well, and it didn't take long for several of George's men to rush down to the brig to try and, ironically, stop the madness. Those filthy men didn't see us coming! Our cell doors had been unlocked the entire time, thanks to my passing the keys around.

Sparrow and I grabbed the first two men that we could get our hands on, and banged their heads together, knocking them out cold so we could take their weapons. We shared impressed smiles with each other, happy that for once, we'd worked together to accomplish even the smallest of tasks. We stood by and watched as our men warked together as well, quite a few of them merriting their own weapons they'd aquired.

"Alright men!" I shouted. "You know what to do!"

"What he said!" Sparrow yell to his men.

Sparrow and I charged up onto the deck with our men, right into the searing heat of many fights going on around us. It was Navymen and pirates against pirates, the two completely different groups fighting together as one to beat one. But among all of the chaos, shouting and confusion, I looked only for one man. George was nowhere to be seen.

I made my way across the deck, taking down as many men as I could, taking no quarter, and slammed the cabin door behind me once I'd reached it. The Captain's Quarters were dark and stuffy, and for a few moments I didn't see the dark figure to my left. George's sword was a flash of silver in the small amount of light that filtered through the filthy cabin windows, and the duel began. His sword clanged with my own newly quired one, sending sparks too close to my exposed hands and feet.

"Tell me, Admiral, how bad is your wife's health now?" The pirate captain questioned, swinging his sword at my neck.

I swung my blade up to meet his, then lunged at his heart, which he unfortunately blocked.

"Because by now, she should bed dead." he smiled, managing to slice my upper left arm. "or near death, at least."

I cringed, but managed to leap out of the way of his next lunge.

"First, her strength dwindled slowly away, leaving her wak and tired." he swung at my belly, narrowly missing it. "Then, she became pale...ghostly pale. Starting to sound familiar, Admiral?"

"How do you know all of this?" I gritted out, finally managing to land a stab in the man's side.

George only grunted, and pulled himselt off of my blade as he lunged at me again. "Then the delusions began."

Delusions? It that why I hadn't been recieving letters from my wife? She had written that the baby was keeping her busy, that that's why her letters were coming more and more spread out. But, that had been some time ago...

I narrowly shielded myself from a strong blow that had been aimed at my head, and very nearly fell to the floor from the impact. "How do you know all of this?" I demanded.

George took advantage of my weak footing to successfully put a nice-sized slash in my right leg, sending me crashing to the floor with a cry of pain. I reached for my pistol at the same time that he reached for two of his, and the sound of the pistols being cocked filled the room. But as we glared at each other, I on the floor and George standing over me, we heard a fourth pistol cocked from somewhere within the room. I seemed to find Sparrow in the dark, upper left corner of the cabin as quickly as George did, and just as quickly, George fired one of his pistols at the other pirate captain. Though I seemed to hate Sparrow most of the time, I was filled with horror as the man fell to the floor, unmoving.

"Now then, where was I?" George asked without a care as he tossed the useless pistol aside, and took advantage of my shock to kick mine out of my hand while keeping his other trained on me. "Oh yes, your wife." he smiled. "Then she began getting very delirious. Do you know what's next, sir?"

George grinned at me, and it was here that he walked around so that he was standing next to my head, and placed one of his heavy-booted feet on my throat. I squirmed beneath the preassure, the weight cruely cutt off my air.

"She's going to start having hallucinations next, Admiral. Hallucainations are the final step before death with this sort of poison. Yes, poison, Admiral. I have a man working in the kitchen of your very home. He's been doing well switching spices with this poison, slipping bits of it in your wife's food. To think no one has noticed him under disguise as one of your house servents!" he laughed. "He's been sending me letters of her progress, and it sounds like she's in the final stages, if she's been eating that food every day. Last I heard, she was wandering about the manner looking for you!"

The mental image of my pale, weak wife wandering about our large home calling my name shattered my heart, causing me to go limp, momentarily forgetting my lack of air.

George pressed his boot harder against my throat, seemingly studying me with curiosity as I began to squirm again. "But her efforts are worthless. She'll never find you, and you won't get back to her in time. In fact, you'll never get back to her." It was here that the man smiled a small smile at me. "And this is my revenge, Admiral. Not only have you killed my brother, but you've killed my wife as well. Just a few years ago. Remember that pirate ship you sank off the coast of Jamaica when you were working for the East India Trading Company? It was called _The_ _Hurricane_. It had contained me and my wife. I escaped, but she didn't. The ship was fired upon by your orders."

My vision was becoming blurred, and I knew I didn't have long. "Th-that...wasn't in...inten...tion...al." I wheezed.

George's smile only widened, and he raised his pistol so that the barrel was trained on my forehead. "This is where I'll bring this meeting to a close..."

I was hanging on to nothing but my heartbeat, and it was growing faint. My struggles ceased, and my grip on the man's boot went slack...

"So sorry I'm the only one that is going to enjoy this."

I watched with the remainder of my sight as his finger began tightening around the trigger. This was it. I was going die, and I'd never get to see my darling Chrissy, or my dear little Melody again. The shot I'd waited for rang out, but it didn't hurt. I was surprised that when I felt blood splatter all over me, I didn't feel any pain, as I thought I would. George's boot lifted from my throat, and when I rolled over on my side gasping for air, my hands lightly grasping at my throat, nothing but my lungs and said area were hurting. I hadn't felt the bite of a bullet at all. There was good reason for this. George fell down beside me with a scream of agony, clutching at his blood-spattered leg, having been shot.

"Get this howling, scurvish mutt onto the deck." A familiar voice said from somewhere near me. "His men will surrender when they see that their captain has been captured, and then we can lock them all in the brig."

"Aye, Captain." Said another voice.

The screaming got farther and farther away, and soon it was quiet, both in the cabin and on the deck. I could hear another set of boots walking to me, however, but by that time I wasn't afraid for my life, I wasn't worried about death, and I was no longer concerned about the mission. I was concerned only about the air passing in and out of my lungs, and other obvious things.

"How are you feelin', mate?" Came that familiar, husky voice.

I became aware of other footfalls, two pairs at least, and then the sounds of more pistols being cocked.

"Get away from him!" Was the stern order of Theodore's voice.

"Put your weapons down, pirate and there won't be any trouble." Were Andrew's orders.

"I was just tryin' to help, mates. He was nearly choked to death." Sparrow whispered weakly, clutching at his left side.

"You've helped us enough. Put your weapons down." Theodore growled.

I was surprised when Sparrow actually did back away from my weak body, and began removing the weapons he'd aquired not half an hour prior to all of this. "Alright, mates." he whispered, obviously in pain.

"Andrew, get a few men to take him to the brig, and we'll see where to go from there."

"N-no." I croked from my position on the floor. "Find...f-find medical attention, first." I whispered, for that was the only volume I could speak in.

Footsteps neared me, and Theodore's face came into view when he knelt down and turned me over on my back. "Sir?"

"Medical attention...find him some. This man saved my life."

Theodore stared at me for a moment, before nodding. "Yes, sir."

"Andrew, get to the wheel, and make for Port Royal with all haste."

A weak smile tugged at the man's lips, and despite the tiredness his posture clearly showed, he saluted me. "Aye, sir."

* * *

"Are you certain you're fine with this? I could just get someone to watch the doors and windows."

"I'm absolutely certain."

A sigh. "Alright. I'll be in the next room. Don't hesitate if you need something."

I could picture Isabella smiling. "You know I won't."

"Good night, darling." Philip whispered.

In the absolute silence of the room, I could hear them kissing, and I became pained, upset, and angered all at once. Philip was concerned about sleeping a few feet away from his wife, when I'd been surviving for months not having any idea as to where my husband was.

Isabella had decided it might be a good idea for her to sleep in the same bed as I, so that I wouldn't try to get up in the middle of the night and wander about the jungle, looking for my husband. But oh, she doesn't know me as well as she thinks. What were they doing on my island, in my jungle anyway? And what was this other room Philip was talking about? The shelter was only a one room building. Oh well, they wouldn't keep me locked up for long.

"Good night." she answered softly.

Philip's footfalls were strangely oud on the dirt floor of the shelter, but I soon forgot about it when he closed the door. The shelter door isn't supposed to close with a click, it's supposed to close silently. I would have to look at that later, though, because for now I would have to wait for Isabella to fall asleep.

Isabella had no such plans of falling asleep right away, however. Thinking _me_ asleep, Isabella fluffed her pillow and pulled the covers over herself as quietly as she could, before pulling out a book. How did I know all of this since my back was to her and my eyes were closed? I could tell by how her weight was distributed on the bed that she was sitting up, and I'd heard her fluff the pillow and then turn a few pages of her book.

Oh, but little Melody! Little Melody, from somewhere in the jungle, began to cry! Isabella stood with a sigh and set her book down, before padding quietly out of the shelter. It was here that I sat up slowly, my body sore and stiff, and looked around. Not a soul in sight. With a smile, I shoved the covers from my body, pushed myself so that my feet were over the side of the bed, stood, and...fell down. I landed with a 'thud', all of my air leaving my lungs. Had I caught anyone's attention? Was anyone on their way to see what the commotion had been about? Apparently not, because no one came rushing into the room.

I got back to my feet by using my bed to pull myself up, which took quite a bit of effort due to my lack of strength. But I made it back to my feet none the less, and made for the door. I opened it only slightly, and looked about, searching for anyone that would stop me. There was no one. I proceeded out of the shelter only to realize...the shelter wasn't the shelter after all. My little shelter was a large mansion with a long hallway, and many rooms. The long hallway was covered in vines and leaves, though, so it didn't bother me any; it was still home.

I walked towards the sound of Melody's crying, running my hands along the wall as a guide since my vision was still a bit blurred. It turned out that Melody was in the room right next to mine, so I didn't have to walk far. The door was open, and I could see Isabella holding my little girl when I peaked around the open door.

"Shh little one." Isabella whispered softly. "Your papa is going to be home soon."

I would have gone in the room and taken little Melody from Isabella's arms...I would have gone in to comfort my little baby...but my strength was gone. If I tried to hold her, I fear I would drop her. So with a further broken heart, I turned away to look for my husband. I came to a grand staircase, also covered in snaking vines, and grasped the banister tightly as I made my way slowly, agonizingly slowly, down the staircase and to the first floor of the manor. I was in what appeared to be the main enterence of the place, which was _infested_ with vines, brush, leaves, and trees. It would be difficult for me make my way across the dense jungle floor, but I'd accomplished a lot of things when I'd put my mind to them.

Taking a deep breath, I began stepping over things, crawling _under_ fallen trees, and even tried to swing from a few vines, but that proved worthless because they all snapped, and I fell to the ground. I actually fell down quite a few times before giving it up to just walk cautiously over and under things. I was surprised when I came to a well lit room, a study, it looked to be, with even _more_ vines than the main enterance! I only pushed my way through, though, and stopped when I came to a...desk. The desk was littered with all manner of things, but I paid it no mind; it was the drawers I was interested in. Huzzah to the first one I looked in! A pistol laid there, gleaming in the light of the well-controlled fire. With glowing eyes I dipped my hand in and grasped the pistol, smiling as I stroked its fine wood and brass.

But what was that I heard several paces away from this vine-infested study? A clutter of pots and pans? There was a kitchen as well? I clutched the pistol tightly for fear of an intruder in my home, and jogged quickly (if not very clumsy, stumbling quite a few times), to the kitchen. There he was. A pirate. What was he doing, exactly? I could tell he was digging around in the dirty pantry, but what was he trying to accomplish?

He drew his hand out, clutching a bottle more than half empty with some sort of yellow liquid. A smile tugged at his lips when he gazed at it, and he walked over to a platter of food that rested on the dirtied kitchen counter. He opened the bottle and proceeded in pouring it all over the platter, and that's when he spotted me.

"Oye, go back to bed woman." he sneered.

"What are you doing?" I asked weakly.

"I said go back to bed!" he snapped.

It was then that he saw the pistol clutched in my hand, and his eyes widened as he reached for his own. He had his pistol out by the time I had mine raised, the slowness due to my lack of strength, but my finger pulled the trigger faster than his. The pirate fell back, the bottle of liquid landing on the platter of food when it fell from his dead hand. I lowered my hand, know my task was complete, and dropped the pistol.

It wasn't long before I heard running footsteps and gasps, and I turned to gaze the shocked expressions of Alexander, Philip, Isabella (who clutching Melody tightly to her chest), and Oliver.

"She's shot the cook!" Oliver breathed. "She...she murdered him!"

I lifted a trembling hand in the direction of the platter of food, and pointed. "P-poison." I stuttered.

Philip ventured forward so that he was close to the platter of food and the bottle, and sniffed. He stood up straight, his expression one of disgust, then shock as he nodded. "It is poison." he whispered. "All this time..." he said, looking down at the dead man, apparently not noticing he was a pirate.

"James..." I whispered.

Everyone's eyes were suddenly on me, including Melody's.

"James..." I whispered a bit more frantically, hoping he would hear me from somewhere within the jungle. "James, come back! James!"

I stumbled back, tripping on my own feet, and fell to the ground, everything around me going dim.

**Okay, a bit of a dark chapter ending! Is she dead, or just blacked out? If so, will James get back to her in time? Review to find out! Please review, it motivates me! Thank you!**


	29. A Bittersweet Reunion

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies, you know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

My body and joints were very sore, and stiff, but I didn't care anymore. I'd accomplished my mission, but I didn't care about that also, because the ship was directed homeward. With this thought in mind I pushed myself the rest of the way up off my bed, my joints popping in protest, and walked slowly to the sea-chest that rested at the foot said piece of furniture, also not caring about the fact that I was naked as I knelt down in front of the chest, because I was soon to be dressed anyway. As I was knelt there on the floor, my wounded left arm close to my body, I humored myself with the fact that there were a lot of things I didn't care about on the ship, which was very unlike me. My duty as Admiral, my wounds, the way the ship was run, and Jack Sparrow. No. Nothing mattered to me but seeing the faces of my wife and child.

I dipped my right hand down in the chest to grasp a pair of deep blue breeches, stockings, and a cream-colored shirt. It took a bit more time and effort for me to get up off the floor, so by the time I reached the bed again I was quite frustrated, as you can imagine. My features twisted into a wince when I had to use my wounded arm to help my good one pull my breeches on, and once that was completed, everything else was easier to do. I had no trouble pulling on my shirt, and my stockings and boots were a bit of a challenge, but I'd grown accustom to it over the course of several weeks.

I chuckled bitterly to myself. It had taken us over three months to find George and his crew, yet now that we knew where we were, and we knew we'd sailed in those waters before, it had only taken us a matter of weeks to make our way back home. Home. Home where my sickly wife would be waiting for me, knowing her...if she hadn't died from poisoning. This was the root of all my carelessness. All of these weeks I've been restless, with hardly any sleep, causing my thoughts to be nothing but a mess, leading me to care nothing of what was going on around me. And what of the baby? Who was taking care of the baby if my wife was hallucinating, weak and helpless as, well, a baby?

"Sir?"

The knock on my cabin door shook me from my ponderings, and I began the slow process of tucking my shirt into my breeches. "Enter."

The cabin door squeeked on its hinges as Theodore Groves entered the room. Theodore didn't look any better than me, to be quite honest. He had some fairly bad wounds as well, and was also sleep deprived. He offered a weak salute, of which I returned, and he closed the door behind him. "Sir, we should be arriving in Port Royal by tonight."

I nodded, and grabbed the cloth sling that rested atop my sea-chest. Theodore came foreward and helped me get it around my neck so it would be easier for me to slide my arm into it. I thanked him, before seating myself on my bunk again. "Tonight, for certain?" I mumured.

"Aye, sir. We're on direct course, and we have a strong wind in our sails. We should be home by sundown." he smiled weakly.

I smiled, weakly as well, before speaking. "You are ready to see Abigail, aren't you?"

"Aye, sir. If I may say so, there is nothing like a woman to calm a wounded and weary man."

"You may say so, Lieutenant." I chuckled. "No, there is nothing like them at all."

"And I don't have to guess that you are ready to see my little sister?" he said softly. "Hopefully...Hopefully she is alright."

I nodded feebly. "Yes...hopefully she is." After a few moments of heavy silence I stood to look out of one of the many windows in my cabin. "Hopefully you are, my love." I whispered as I gazed out at the sea.

* * *

"Land ho!"

Oh, I'd never been happier to hear those words! Finally, after months of being on this wretched ship my feet would be able to touch land! I walked briskly, eagerly to the port side railing and placed my good hand on the finely polished wood. I could see it. I could see Jamaica, and more importantly, Port Royal. I gazed at the piece of land almost lovingly, searching the area where I thought my home was.

"Eager to get back to your bonny lass, aye?"

I turned my head slowly to the left, finding Sparrow leaning on his elbows against the railing.

"Indeed." I murmured.

Sparrow smiled his signiture smile. "Anyone could tell by glancing at your face. Be careful, someone might acutally see you smile."

I snorted as I turned my gaze back to the city glowing in the faint light of the setting sun. "I'm not made of stone, you know."

"You really should get that stick out of your arse, Admiral. I'd wager quite a lot of people think you've a heart of stone."

"I'm an Admiral, I'm supposed be strict and commanding. Sailors need a strong, clear-minded figure to lead them."

Sparrow only nodded, before also turning his gaze to the city. "You're going to lock me up as soon as we dock."

I casted my eyes downward. "You know I have to. However, I am going to do my best to get you a pardon, and see if we can earn you the title of 'privateer'."

"'The Scurge of Piracy', mate? The 'Scurge of Piracy' wants to help O'l Jack?" he asked in confusion.

I brought my gaze back to him with a nod. "You saved my life, Mr. Sparrow, I owe you. Like I said, I'm not made of stone."

* * *

"What would you like for us to do with Mr. Sparrow, sir?"

I made my way to the gangplank before turning to answer the question. "Put Mr. Sparrow in irons, and take him to a cell in the fort. If he needs anything, see to it, or you'll answer to me."

The marine that had addressed me furrowed his brows, but saluted none the less.

I returned his salute, before anxiously making my way down the gangplank. I'm certain I was quite a site to the few citizens that were gathered at the docks, waiting to see their family members or sweethearts. I was in naught but my cream-colored shirt and blue breeches, my feet were bare, and I wore no hat or wig. My hair, which I had cropped due to the heat, and sheer frustration at the difficulty in taking care of it once it had grown long, was mussed up and dirty. This is how Chrissy must have felt when she first arrived in Port Royal. People were staring at me and murmuring, just as they had at Chrissy. I even saw children and young ladies pointing at me, saying, "That's Admiral Norrington? That filthy man there? Has he gone mad?"

I only ignored them, my mind set on one place and person. I found the nearest waiting carriage and gave the driver the directions before climbing in. The ride seemed to take a life time, but the site of my home lit up in the night was well worth every aching minute. I climbed out of the carriage wearily, surprised when I stumbled and was caught by Oliver.

"Father!" he mumured. "You're home!"

"Where is Chrissy?" I asked tiredly.

Oliver didn't answer. Oliver just stood and looked at me with pity as I steadied myself. It was then that I heard the footsteps of others. Alexander, Isabella, and Philip had all rushed out on the porch.

"James!" Isabella breathed, rushing to me. She pulled me to her gently, holding me to her for a while before speaking. "You're home."

"Yes," I nodded, hugging her with my good arm. "Where is my wife?"

Isabella didn't answer, but gave me a pitied look, just as Oliver had.

Frustrated, I pulled away. "Why won't anyone answer me?! Where is she?"

Then I saw her. Chrissy was like a pale shadow in the doorway of our home, thin and weak, having to lean on the doorframe for support.

"Darling..." I breathed, taking my sling off so that I could open my arms to her.

Chrissy stood and stared at me for a few moments as though wondering if I were real, before rushing to me, my name passing her lips several times.

She stumbled when she was but a few feet from me, and I had to lunge forward a bit to catch her. I lowered her and myself to the ground, cradling her like a sickly child. "Dear God..." I whispered. "You're as pale as a sheet!"

Chrissy, my darling Chrissy was pale white, and seemed to have lost her glow. Her hair and eyes were dull, and I thought I could feel her bones poking me from beneath her nightgown. She seemed to have no strength from the way she was barely clutching my shirt, and she felt very, very light.

"I've found you!" she whispered. "I've been searching for you for so long..." she smiled. "I've been wandering about the jungle for weeks."

At that very moment I felt my heart shatter. She'd been having hallucinations. I looked up at the others, who were only looking on sympathetically. With what little strength I had left I lifted my wife and entered my home, and began the agonizing climb up the grand staircase.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" My wife asked. "I've been searching for you for so long! Where have you been?"

Oh, how my chest ached when I looked down at her pallid face! I offered her the best smile I could produce, and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I can't find words good enough to explain how happy I am to see you. I am sorry I had to go away." By this time I was in our bedroom, and I shut the door with my foot before easing Chrissy down on our bed.

"Please don't go again." A worried expression took over her features, and she sat up as quickly as she could. "You won't leave again, will you? Please don't go!" she cried.

I gathered her up in my arms, not caring about the pain in my bad one, and placed a lingering kiss on her pale lips as tears entered my eyes. "Never again. I won't leave you ever again, my love. I'm going to resign from my position in the Navy as quickly as I can, so I can take care of you."

"You'll do that for me?" she asked, sounding like a small child.

"Yes!" I whispered passionately. "Yes, of course. I'm going to resign, and then I'm going to take you back to England...where the environment will do you good. We'll live out in the country, and raise our child there."

I laid her down on the mattress and was in the process of laying beside her, when she pulled me down atop her body. "Make love to me." she murmured.

I winced as I took in her pale, sickly features. "You are too weak." I whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Don't give me that!" she cried. "I've been wandering around the junge for months, trying to find you, please don't deny me this!" she sobbed.

"Darling? Darling, listen to me. We aren't in the jungle, we are in Port Royal, in our home, Norrington Mannor." I whispered tearfully as I stroked her hair.

She furrowed her brows, and cupped my cheeks in her small, seemingly frail hands. "No we aren't. We are on the island, see? That is a tree with vines hanging off of it."

Turning in the direction that Chrissy's finger was pointing, I found that 'tree' to be a chair with a jacket slung over it. I looked back to my wife with pity written on my features. "That isn't a tree, darling, that is a chair with a jacket draped over it."

"No," she said slowly, "That is a tree, James. Where have you been for so long that has tampered with your sight, love? Why did you go?"

A sigh passed my lips, and I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I dipped my head down and claimed my wife's lips, kissing her with every fiber of strength I had left. "I went somewhere far away, because I was forced." I whispered breathlessly. "I didn't want to leave, but I couldn't do anything about it. I was tortured in more ways than one, dear. I am sorry I had to leave you here."

Hungerly I ravished her lips again, not daring to pull away until I was certain they were swollen, before I started placing lighter kisses along her neck.

"I've missed you." she whispered.

"And I you." I murmured against her shoulder. "I am sorry I had to leave you...your condition is my fault."

"My condition?" she asked.

I paused, realizing she didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about. "Uhm...your lack of strength, and the reason you are so pale, and fragile; it is my fault."

Again, my wife cupped my cheeks in her small hands, and smiled weakly at me. "It isn't your fault, love. I will get better, and while I get better, we will wait for a ship to get us off of this island, and go back to England as you've said."

"Yes," I nodded. "We'll do that."

"Why do you look worried, James?"

I also offered a weak smile, and pressed a kiss to one of her palms. "I am concerned about your health, sweetheart, and how sailing to England will affect it."

She only continued to smile as she began to rub my shoulders. "Let's not worry about then...let's worry about now. I want to love you. I just want to be close to you, and love you. I want you to love me." she whispered.

With a slightly larger smile and an 'I love you', I did as my wife wished.

* * *

Something was making a loud sound. Something, somewhere in the house, was making a loud sound of which had woken me from my slumber. Upon waking up a bit more and listening a bit closer, I realized that sound was crying; a baby's crying.

I slowly removed myself from the covers and mattress with a yawn, and stood up in the dark to fumble around for my breeches. I found them and my shirt, and applied them before making for the door. My fingers had barely grasped the doorknob when I heard sheets rustling.

"Darling?" Came the mumur of my wife's tired voice.

"Yes, dear?" I said softly as I turned, finding her with the covers pulled shyly over her.

"Bring her in here; I've been sick, and haven't been able to attend her. I want to see our baby."

I smiled, even though I knew she couldn't tell. "Yes, darling, I'll bring her in here."

I exited our room and crossed the hallway silently, pausing momenarily to listen to the crying through the door. How would little Melody react to seeing me after all this time? Would she recognize me, or just see me as a stranger? Deciding I didn't want to wait anymore I opened the door, and stepped into the light-pink room tinted slightly purple by the blue moonlight. Straight away I could see the white bassinet pressed against the wall directly in front of me, and I could see little hands and feet punching and kicking at the air.

My heart swelled at the thought and fact that those hands and feet were of my own flesh and blood, that the now soft crying belonged my daughter...my child. I made it to the bassinet in just a few quick strides, and smiled down at the little figure that looked up at me. "Good morning." I murmured as I lifted the still kicking and punching figure up into my arms and against my chest. "Do you remember me, sweetheart?"

I could see Melody's little eyes...eyes that looked just like mine, glowing as she stared up at me, though she continued to cry. Her little fingers wrapped around my larger ones when I laid my hand on her blanket-covered chest and belly, and her cries grew slightly softer, though they didn't stop.

"What is wrong, love?" I whispered against her forehead before placing a kiss there. "What ails you?"

Even as I spoke softly to her I walked back to the bedroom, never taking my eyes from her until I was actually in the room. Chrissy was dressed in a nightgown and lighting a candle, spreading a bit of light across the bed and a bit of the floor when we entered.

She smiled at us despite the pain in her eyes from her weakness, and she held her arms open. "Bring her here."

I returned her smile and made my way to the bed, easing myself next to her once I was there. I began to set the baby in her arms, when another sad look came across my wife's features, and I stopped to study her for a few moments. "What is it?"

"My arms." she whispered. "I think I am too weak to hold her, and I fear I may drop her."

"Fold your arms as though you're going to hold her." I instructed. "I will help you hold her."

"How are you-"

"Just do it." I told her softly. When she did so I eased our child into her arms, and put my arms under hers, supporting both her arms and the baby, and smiled down at her as I rested my chin on my wife's shoulder. "She's stopped crying, and she looks happier."

Chrissy smiled as well, and pressed a kiss to my temple before looking back down at Melody, who had begun to coo and make soft baby noises. "I think she knows we're a family again...and after all this time, she's finally being cradled by familiar arms."

"Indeed." I smiled.

**Yeah, I know the end of the chapter is a bit...cheesy, but that's all I could come up with while I was so tired, Lol! Happy Easter, I hope you enjoyed this! Please review to find out what happens next! Thank you!**


	30. Going for Strolls

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies, you know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

One's eyes really are the doorway to one's soul. I know this because when I gaze into my little Melody's eyes, eyes that are my very own in a smaller, softer form, I find nothing but calm, tender, sweetness, and love. She seemed to gain some of these traits from me, but mostly from her mother. She also seems very inquisitive, and very intelligent. Her little brows furrowed lightly as she held one of my fingers in all ten of her tiny ones, studying it quietly, before she became distracted by my thumb stroking said fingers.

I smiled softly before glancing over at my wife, laying asleep in our bed with the covers pulled to her waist, revealing part of the thin, light blue nightgown that adorned her pale figure. Still holding Melody in one arm, I reached out with my other and stroked one of Chrissy's pale cheeks with the backs of my fingers, and sighed lightly. "I never should have left." I whispered.

A soft knock brought my attention to the door, and after a soft command to come in the maid Jane timidly stuck her head in the doorway, and seemed to release a sigh of relief. "I apologize, Master Norrington, but when I went in the baby's nursury to get her and she wasn't there, it gave me a fright!"

I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips, and I quietly stood from the bed and joined her out in the hallway. "Why were you looking to get Melody, Jane?"

"For a bath, sir. She didn't get her usual bath last night because all of us were happy to welcome you back home! I've already drawn warm water, sir, and I was hoping to bathe her this morning."

"Let me do it." I offered.

The gentle smile fell slowly from her lips. "But, sir-"

I chuckled lightly at the young maid. "It is alright, Jane, I would like to spend some time with my daughter...if that is alright, of course?"

Jane seemed to take my light jesting seriously, before smiling once more and nodding. "Of course, sir. Understandable after your long journy, sir."

I nodded and proceeded down the hallway, Jane in tow, to the nicely-sized washroom that sat next to the nursery. It was there that I eased little Melody gently in Jane's arms and rolled my sleeves to my elbows, before unwrapping the soft blanket from around her and her thin little shift, leaving her completely and utterly exposed. I still couldn't help but smile when I finally eased her in the warm water, her expression a mixture of surprise and enjoyment. "Does she always seem surprised when she's put in the bath?" I asked curiously.

Jane chuckled lightly as she sprinkled a bit of water on the baby's hair. "She does, sir. She still isn't quite sure of what to think about being sat down in a tub larger than her that is full of water."

Glancing down at Melody, I found that she seemed to really not know what to think about it. It was rather...cute, really. With my own chuckle I began to pour small amounts of water on Melody's head until her hair was completely soaked, and then reached for the glass bottle of hair soap that rested just to the side of the bath. In a few moments I had her hair lightly lathered with the mixture, before nodding to Jane to pour water from a pitcher to rinse it off. Then, I waited until Jane was busied with lathering soap on a rag before asking more questions. "Jane, how long has Mrs. Norrington...been the way she is?"

Jane sighed as she began rubbing the soapy rag along Melody's back, and sent me a sympathetic look. "For quite some time now, sir. She began falling ill just a few weeks after you left Port Royal."

My brows furrowed. "And no one did anything?"

"We tried, sir." she said softly. "She began having little coughs here and there, and then she started to grow pale and weak, more so each day of the week. We had doctors come examine her, but they never could find anything that was wrong. Only when she fell awfully sick did the doctors become concerned. Mrs. Norrington wouldn't allow them in the manor, though, after one of them tried to bleed her."

I nodded. "She isn't familiar with that sort of treatment."

"No, sir. She kept talking about a plant of some sort, and...you. She was always talking about you, sir, wheather she had just woken, or she was sitting by herself in the gardens, she was talking about you." Jane's facial expression was one of sorrow, and sympathy. She realized this after a few moments of being lost in her own thoughts, and tried to quickly hide it by rinsing the remaining soap from Melody's little body. "There we go, sir! She's nice and clean now."

Quietly I took Melody into my arms, her little frame wrapped in a soft towel. She looked up at me curiously, as she usually did, as though she was memorizing my every feature. I offered her the most sincere smile I could while still thinking of her sick mother, before walking to the nursery, right next to the wash room. I dressed her simply in a plain shift, and then wrapped her in a little blanket before taking a seat in the rocking chair near her bassinet.

"Sir?"

I looked to the source of the soft voice, finding Jane standing not too far from me, a glass bottle in one hand, and a porcelain baby feeder in the other.

"Ah, just put them on the table, here beside me." I said softly.

"Yes, sir." she said as did so. She then curtsied to me, and began to leave the room.

"Ah, Jane?"

She turned quickly.

"Shouldn't we wait for Mrs. Norrington to wake, and allow her to nurse her?"

Jane's cheeks tinted a shade of red, and she bowed her head a bit, trying to hide her newly-acquired color. "The doctors told her not to, sir."

My brows furrowed. "They-...Why?"

Her face turned an even darker shade of red, and she hurried for the door. "I apologize, sir, but I believe I hear another maid calling for assistance." With that, she fled from the room.

Still confused, I looked down at Melody, who was still staring at me. "What do you suppose that was all about?" I murmured. Never the less, I reached out with one hand to the small table and unscrewed the lid to the glass bottle, before pouring a small amount of the milk in the baby feeder.

I had only just put the tip of the baby feeder in Melody's mouth when I heard slow, weak footsteps coming toward the room. I didn't have to guess who those weak steps belonged to, and waited rather...anxiously for my wife to enter the room. She did nearly a minute later, and when she did, my heart began to ache even more so than it already was. Her thin, pale form was covered with a thicker white nightgown; one that covered her shoulders but still revealed a bit of them, was low-cut to reveal a bit of cleavage, and the actual skirt part of it barely reached her ankles. Again, I found myself having to adjust to the new, pallid color of her skin, and the dullness of her hair and eyes, which only a few months ago had glowed like the moon.

Her paled golden hair was, for once, free of a ribbon, flowing freely around her face and on her shoulders and back. Her posture was slumped slightly, making her appear as though she had a stomach ache. Her feet didn't seem to want to coordinate with her body as she slowly made her way to me, shuffling this way and that, and sometimes it seemed they wanted to go in opposite directions. But her eyes were detirmined, and she walked to us in her own time. She sat herself down on the floor before I could do anything to stop her, and she smiled as she watched Melody drink the milk contently.

She rested her hands on my knee and propped her chin on them, and then looked up at me with a slight smile. "Good morning, Jamie."

Jamie? When had she begun calling me Jamie? "Good morning, darling. How do you feel?"

"I'm happy, Jamie, because you're here with me." her brows furrowed, and she cocked her head a bit to the side. "Where did you go, Jamie? Why were you away for so long?"

I sighed. She had asked me that so many times the day prior. She'd asked me as I'd carried her up the staircase, she'd asked me when we entered our bedroom, when I'd put her on the bed, and she'd even asked me a few times when and after we'd made love. My response? "Far away...I was forced to go far away, darling."

She seemed content with this answer, or she didn't really understand what I'd said, because she'd only nodded and looked back to Melody, who was on her seconed round of milk from the baby feeder.

"Darling," I started softly, "Why have the doctors told you not to nurse Melody?"

The happiness fell from her features, and she began to draw invisible circles on my other knee. "They said that they don't want me to nurse the baby because they are afraid that she may get some of the poison in my body from my breasts."

The aching in my chest only intensified. My wife couldn't breast feed our own baby because it could poison her. I stared at her sadly, the reality of the situation hitting me with full force. She had so much poison in her that it could contaminate her breast milk. If she had that much poison in her...she wouldn't live much longer. My lower lip quivered at that thought.

"Jamie, why are you so sad?" she asked suddenly, sounding just like a little child.

I wondered if this was how she felt when I had amnesia, when I had acted so child-like. She must have felt this way all the time...never knowing if I would be myself ever again.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Why do you ask?"

Her own facial expression seemed to twist with saddness. "Your eyes...they always tell me how you feel. There are tears in them."

* * *

"Where is she?" I murmured to myself.

Chrissy had gone missing. To where, no one knew. My house maids and butlers told me she would run off frequently, but would never go far from the manor. But I'd been running around the house for the better part of an hour, and was getting worried. Where could she have run off to? Why did I have to run about the house looking for my wife like a worried parent?

"James?"

I turned quickly, hoping that the soft voice had belonged to my wife, only to find Isabella. "Have you seen my wife?" I asked hopefully.

Wordlessly, she lightly took a hold of my sleeve, a small smile playing on her lips, and led me to the balcony that overlooked the lush, open pasture that was my back yard. My eyes followed her pointing finger, and soon landed on the pale form of Chrissy. She was sitting in the gardens, her fingers stroking the petals of one of the more tropical flowers. A sigh of relief passed my lips, and I just stood there, gazing at her.

"She does this often?" I asked quietly.

Isabella nodded. "Quite, but she never leaves the manor grounds." she replied just as quietly.

"Why?" I wondered aloud.

"She thinks she's in the jungle."

It dawned on me then. "When she lived in the jungle, she never wandered far from the shelter. She only left it to get food and water, or to bathe." I turned to meet Isabella's eyes. "She thinks the manor is the shelter, and the gardens the jungle. She must think she's just going for a stroll..."

Her hand landed atop mine gently; she'd heard the pain in my voice. "She'll get better...she's already improved since you've gotten here."

Her words had offered me no comfort, for I'd heard the uncertainty in them. "She...She's been this way...since I've been gone?"

"The hallucinations just began not too long ago...but...she has been sick for some time."

I nodded, recalling what the others had told me about her. My eyes drifted to my wife again, and a lump actually began to form in my throat when I realized that my dear wife was _talking _to the flower. Somberly, I took my hand from Isabella's and made my way out to the gardens, down the winding dirt path through the lush grass, and finally came to a stop behind my wife.

"Such a pretty flower." she smiled, stroking its silky petals. "Such a pretty _green _flower. You remind me of my husband's eyes." she chose that moment to look up at me, then, having realized I was casting my shadow down on her. "Hello." she grinned.

I smiled, which I think turned out to be more of a wince, and sat down next to her in the grass. "Good afternoon."

She leaned over, sort of off balance, and placed a clumsy, lingering kiss on my lips. "Are you feeling alright?" she asked curiously.

My brows furrowed. "Why do you ask?"

"You look pained." she said slowly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world...and maybe it was. "What is it?" she asked, cupping my right cheek.

I only offered her another pained smile, and pressed my own kiss to her lips. "What are you doing?"

She stared at me for a few moments as though wondering why I had ignored her question, but quickly smiled, looking eager as she turned to the pretty little green flower. "I was just talking to this flower. We've been having a lovely conversation."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump out of my voice. "Oh? What were you talking about?"

Her smile softened, and she leaned a bit closer to me. "We were talking about you, and how the color of his petals remind me of your eyes."

Ah. So this is what Jane must have meant when she'd mentioned that my wife would talk about me in the gardens. Reaching out with a trembling hand, I tucked a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear, allowing my fingers to linger near the soft, sensitive body part.

My wife giggled, the lightness of my touch on her ear having tickled her. "What are you doing, Jamie?"

That time my smile was real, just small. "Touching you."

Was that playfullness that had jumped into her eyes? "Why?"

I paused for a moment, thinking. "Because it has been far too long since I've been able to touch you when I've wanted to."

She seemed to think on my words for a moment, and leaned in closely yet again. Her lips touched mine, lightly at first, then grew stronger. One of her hands, seemingly timid, placed itself upon my chest, and she leaned into me. She then began placing multiple kisses on my cheeks, jaw, chin, and neck, before nipping at my lips again.

"Chrissy?" I managed to say bewteen kisses.

"Hmm?" she sighed, opting to nibble the place just beneath my right jaw joint.

"D-darling..." I stuttered, her other hand having slid from my knee to my inner thigh. "D-darling...p-please..."

"What?" she murmured against neck, tugging at my cravat to expose a bit more of it.

"N-not here, darling. Somewhere...more...se-...secluded."

"Why?" she asked, attacking my lips again.

I cupped her cheeks, gently pulling her face from my own so I could look her in the eyes. "We're out in the open...anyone in the manor can see us." her arms slowly snaked around my neck, sending shivers up my spine. Oh, how good a woman's touch felt! Not just any woman, either.

"So let's go somewhere else...No one ever goes to the thick part of the gardens...I know so, because I've hidden there a few times."

"Chrissy," I started, then immediately looked at her in confusion. "Hidden? You've hidden there? Why were you hiding?"

Chrissy lowered her head a bit, as though she were about to reveal that she'd done something wrong. "When the doctors would come. All they would do is try to cut me, Jamie, and no one would do anything to stop them...except Alexander."

"What would Alexander do?" I asked curiously.

My wife tilted her head a bit to the side. "Some doctors would come even when we didn't send for them, because they said that they thought I was an interesting patient. Some of them would even go as far as asking for me, and putting their feet in the door so they could get in! One of them even ran in as soon as the door was open, and took my hand and said, "Mrs. Norrington! Wouldn't you like to get well?" Alexander would tell them to leave me alone before he threw them out of the manor himself, and that he would have no regrets about it and didn't care what they said about him." she smiled, then. "He was the only one that would talk to me...really talk to me. He would actually listen, too."

I nodded, pulling her close. I would have to thank Alexander later.

Chrissy slowly struggled to her feet, and began tugging on my hands. "Get up, Jamie! Let's go to the thicker part of the gardens!"

"Darling..." I started.

Her tugging became a bit more prominant. "Please, Jamie? Please? I want to show you something!"

I sighed. How could I ignore those eyes?! That adorable smile, the way she was tugging on my hands like a child. I looked up at the manor, at the balcony where I'd been standing only moments before, to find Isabella still standing there. She had a serious look on her face...almost a glare, as she motioned for me to get up. I looked back to my wife again, who'd stopped tugging, and was wearing a look on her face that a child would when he or she was afraid of being denied a treat. Again, how could I ignore those eyes? I got to my feet, a bright smile instantly tugging at my wife's lips as I did, and looked back to the balcony again. Isabella was making 'shooing' motions with her hands.

I looked around to see if anyone else was watching, only to find Isabella was alone in this task, before lifting my wife up into my arms. I had only walked a few feet when questions began to plague me again. "Darling, why did you run off?"

Chrissy's happy expression didn't falter. "Because they were always keeping me locked up...and I wanted to feel the sunlight, because I rarely get to feel it anymore because they were always keeping me in the shelter."

Ah. She never was one for staying inside all day. "Where are we going, sweetheart? Tell me where."

She smiled again. "Just keep walking, and when we get to the fork in the path, go to the left. The plants lining that path are a bit more grown, and the path is a bit shadier than the other. No one goes down that path because they think it is too thick, but when you reach the end of it..." her smile widened. "That's what I want to show you."

I followed her instructions, and mentally agreed to myself that the path to the left did look a bit wild and overgrown. As I walked down the darker path, little bits of vines hung down that brushed the top of my head and shoulders, and vines had even grown over the path, but didn't hide the dirt from view. There were a few flowery plants that brushed my booted ankles as well, but it really wasn't so bad that one couldn't walk down the path.

"Now," Chrissy started, "There's an opening that's nearly too overgrown, but we can get through it very easily. Just walk through it."

There was an opening, and it did look overgrown...nearly too thick to walk through. However, when one actually got to the opening at the end of the path, one would see that it wasn't thickly covered at all, that it was merely a bunch of small ivy vines hanging down. I walked through them with much ease, and when I got into the clearing, my breath was taken from me. The path had opened up into what I could only describe as a dome. I could tell that the path had led us deep into the woods of my land, for there were quite a few grown trees scattered in the opening. All manner of ivy vines, normal vines, and flowers and grown wrapped around the surrounding trees, which gave it a sort of dome look. Only a few slivers of sun light could get through the thick plant growth, giving the place a dim sort of glow.

Chrissy struggled to get herself to her feet, and she took my hand. "Well?"

My eyes were still wide with shock. "This...this is part of our property? Th-this has been here the entire time we've lived here?"

"Mhm." she smiled. "It has, it's just that no one wanted to walk down the path because it looked dark and too wild, but it obviously isn't."

I ventured forward a few steps, walking between some of the scattered trees to get a better look at some of the greenery. "It...It's beautiful!" I whispered. Only until my wife walked slowly out in front of me did I realize that the top of the dome only reached a few feet above our heads, but had plenty of room for at least ten more people.

"This is where I would hide from the doctors. No one would think to come looking for me here." she pulled me forward a bit by my hands, smiling gently. "I would always imagine you here with me."

I did nothing to stop the genuin smile that caressed my lips, and I pulled her against me, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Would you?"

"Mhm." she nodded. She then giggled and kissed me, before pulling away with a giddy laugh. She un-buckled my sword belt and took my gun from my waist, and placed them on the ground before removing my jacket and waistcoat. I was in nothing but my tricorn, white cotton shirt, breeches, and boots when she began kissing me again.

My wife, however, was in nothing but her white cotton nightgown, her hair still loose, her feet bare. I couldn't help but chuckle as I tossed my tricorn to the side without a care, soon followed by my boots and stockings. "So," I murmured. "What you imagine me doing while you would hide here?"

A smirk pulled at her lips as both of us fell to the grass-padded earth.

**Wow...I can't believe it's been over a month since I've updated! Of course, school has been keeping me busy as well. Summer is just two weeks away for me, so I'll be able to update a lot more frequently very soon. Well, I felt bad about keeping you waiting for such a while, so I wrote this one extra long. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'll have the next chapter out as soon as possible. Please reaview, I appreciate it! Thank you for your patience!**


	31. Why Hadn't I Thought Of It Sooner?

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters that weren't in the movies; the ones I made up. I also do not own Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

"Mmm."

"Hmm?"

"Lie still, dear...I want to hold you."

"The ground isn't very soft place to lie, darling...I was getting comfortable." I chuckled.

She chuckled as well, and nestled her head against my chest. "Try sleeping on the ground for ten years and then some; you make it comfortable. I've slept on it since you left to wherever you went."

It was little comments like those that shattered the moment. Little comments like that, that reminded me of how fragile a state my wife was in...Comments like those that made me hold her all the more tighter. We were still in that little dome-like clearing, with nothing but my deep green civilian-clothing jacket covering us, for it had grown quite nippy to our bare skin. I pulled her close, oh so close, until there was no space between us, and our legs were tangled. My left hand rested upon her back, while my right stroked her hair, and my eyes wandered.

"Jamie, look at me."

I did as I was told without hesitation, my green eyes meeting her beautiful blue ones.

She pulled her head back a bit to get a better look at me, and cupped my cheeks. "What is wrong, Jamie?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying to me." she said softly. "Tell me what is wrong...We're married, Jamie, and we're not supposed to hide things from each other. Now please, tell me what is wrong before I go mad." she said softer, a heavy trace of begging in her voice.

I sighed, unable to denie those eyes. "I'm worried about you, my sweet."

Her brows cocked with confusion. "Why? What is there to worry about?"

I felt my expression twist painfully with sadness. "Your health, darling. You're so fragile...and you're full of poison."

"Mhm?" she pressed gently.

That time I could feel agony in my expression, and I heard it in my voice. "I'm scared...of losing you. I don't know what I'll do if I lose you." My voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't think my heart would be able to bare it."

Chrissy's expression turned sympathetic, and she began to stroke my face. "I'm not going to leave you...I refuse. I _will _get better, Jamie. We're going to go back to England, just as you said we would, and we're going to live out in the country and raise our child." she paused. "Tell me how to get better, Jamie, and I'll do it. As soon as we get out of the jungle-"

"Don't you understand?!" I suddenly cried. "We're not in the jungle!"

Her face held confusion again. "No, we're in the jungle, on the island."

I slowly untangled myself from her and stood, before retrieving my breeches and putting them on. I then just stood, my bare back facing her.

Rustling told me that she had gotten up as well, and she placed one of her small hands on my scarred right shoulder. "What is bothering you, Jamie? I don't understand why you're acting this way!" she mumured.

I turned around quickly, discovering that she'd put my jacket on and had pulled it around her so that she was covered. My breaths began getting shorter and quicker, and tears welled up in my eyes. "We're not on the island, Chrissy, and we haven't been for months."

Her confusion only intensified. "We went back, and we haven't even left yet, darling! Why do you keep saying that?"

I could feel the warm tears streaking down my cheeks. "Don't you understand? We've been off of that blasted island for over three months! You're mentally ill, and seeing things!" I shouted. "We are on the island of Jamaica, and we're in Port Royal. We're nowhere near your island!"

She shook her head. "I don't understand. What do you mean I'm seeing things?"

I could tell she was becoming upset and more and more confused, and I only continued getting more upset and angry. "You've been poisoned, Chrissy! A pirate had someone poisoning you to get revenge on me, and it has ruined your mind." I was sobbing, nearly choking as I said, "It's slowly...k-killing you...and th-there's n-n-nothing I can do...ab-about it!" I screamed.

She was suddenly right there, her arms around me, her warmth seeping into my body, comforting me. "Shhh, Jamie. Please don't sob, please? It can be fixed! I'm going to get better, and we're going to live in England. I will heal...just as soon as we get off this island..."

I pulled back from her violently, very angry seemingly out of nowhere. I walked to where my shirt had been discarded, and pulled it on with great difficulty due to my anger and sobbing. "Stop talking about that damned island! I don't want to hear another word about it!"

She looked completely and utterly lost by then. "Jamie, I don't understand why you're being like this! What have I done to be screamed at?! I don't understand why you think we're not on the island."

"Because we're not!" I screamed/sobbed at her. "We're nowhere near it! You're sick! You're seeing things!" I quickly grabbed her nightgown from the ground and strode to her, before yanking my jacket from her body to replace it with the nightgown.

"Ow! You're hurting me!" she whimpered once it had been tugged over her arms and head. She tugged it on the rest of the way, and stared at me with glassy eyes. "Why are you treating me this way?!"

In blind rage I grabbed her shoulders and began shaking. "Stop it! Stop seeing things! Stop it this instant!"

I was suddenly ripped away from my wife, and a hard fist landed upon my right cheek. My back hit the ground squarely and hard, forcing the breath from my lungs. As soon as the multi-colored rods of light stopped flashing before my eyes, I sat up, dumbfounded.

A very angry Lieutenan Theodore Groves was standing over me, his fists at the ready, his breath heavy. "You _will not _treat my sister that way; I don't care if you're her husband or not! You could have harmed her the way you were shaking her so!" he snarled.

"How did you find us?" My wife asked, her voice sounding very small and timid.

Theodore turned and gently put his arms around her. "I heard the two of you screaming. Did he hurt you?"

My anger had dwindled by that time, and I felt absolutely ashamed of my anger-blinded actions. I shifted so that I was on my hands and knees, and I used all of the strength I had left to look into Chrissy's eyes. "I...I'm so sorry!" I whispered. "I just...I became so angry! I didn't...I didn't mean anything I said...I'm sorry." I hung my head shamefully and crawled to her, hugging her legs. "Please, please forgive me."

From the corner of my eye I saw Theodore's boots back away, and then I felt my hands and arms being gently pulled from around my wife's legs. Chrissy knelt down before me and tilted my chin up. "It's alright." she whispered, a smile slowly tugging at her pale lips.

I shook my head. "No, it's not alright. I could have harmed you!" the tears were flowing down my cheeks again.

Chrissy cupped my face in those small hands, her smile not wavering. "You're just frustrated about...everything. Everyone feels that way sometimes. Don't feel bad anymore, Jamie. I'm not angry at you, I promise."

I pulled her close and buried my face in her neck, inhaling her scent. Her scent, which smelled like flowers and the sea, always seemed able to calm me. I took several deep breaths, and in a few minutes, I wasn't as upset as I had been.

"I won't tell anyone of this," Theodore said quietly, catching both mine and Chrissy's eyes, "But if I catch you treating my sister like that in any way again, I _will _take her until I'm certain you can keep yourself calm."

I glared. "Over my dead body will you be taking her anywhere without _my_ permission."

"Please," Chrissy started softly, "Please don't fight. I don't like it when you fight...it hurts me."

Both of us looked to Chrissy, sitting there all pale and weak, looking at the two of us with pleading eyes, and then we looked back to each other. Theodore nodded, as did I, before I put my stockings, boots, waistcoat, weapons belt, cravat, and tricorn back on. I helped Chrissy to her feet before I fetched my coat, and slid it on her arms and straightened it on her shoulders. I then pulled her close, pressing her tightly to my body, before lifting her up in my arms.

She wrapped her arms around my neck as I carried her, and placed a lingering kiss on my cheek. She didn't seem angry at all about the circumstances, for she smiled nearly the entire way back to the manor, making small talk with both me and her brother.

The maids and butlers all looked at the three of us strangely, but I paid them no mind. All that mattered was getting my wife to our room, to our bed, where I could watch her and tend to her every need. As I made my way up the stairs I saw Oliver in his room, staring at one of the purple spots on his neck in the mirror. I stopped to look at him, an idea dawning on me like a slap to the face.

"Why didn't I think of it before?!" I murmured.

"Think of what?" Chrissy and Theodore asked at the same time.

I didn't answer, but only jogged to our bedroom and placed her on the bed, before rushing back out. I ran down the stairs and outside again, to the little pond near the stables. A rope was suspended in the water, and I yanked it up as quickly as I could. A bucket was tied to the other end with a lid tied over the top. Wasting no time I drew my sword to cut the string holding the lid on, and with a relieved expression drew out what I'd come for. I then ran back to the house, grabbing a rock, bowl, and plate on the way, and dashed back to the bedroom.

"I think I have the answer to our problem." I said quickly as I seated myself on the mattress.

My wife had that confused expression on her face again. "What are you going to do with those?"

I held up the red plants, very similar to a quill in appearance, just with a slimy plant texture. "It worked for the spider poison in Oliver, and I'll wager it'll work for this poison that's in your body."

Theodore studied the plants, which I had set atop the plate on the nightstand, as I grabbed the bowl and rock. "But, she has so much poison," he whispered so that only I could hear, "It may not work fast enough."

"We have to try it, Theodore. Oliver said it tastes bloody awful, but it cured the poison that had been in his body, leaving him with only one side-affect." I answered in an equally quiet tone.

"Yes, it left him blind in one eye." he prompted.

"When he had been nearly completely blind in both. It left his left eye blurred. He can see with it, it's just blurred."

My hands worked quickly to crush the liquid out of one of the plants in the bowl, the rock in my hand scraping my skin due to the grip I was using to hold it. I found that it really didn't take much of the plant to get a lot of liquid from it, because I hadn't even crushed half of it to get the small bowl full of the reddish liquid.

Setting the rock back on the nightstand and the partially crushed plant back on the plate, I turned back to my wife. "Darling, " I murmured, "I need you to drink this."

She stared with a sort of disgusted look at the stuff when I held it before her face, before flicking her eyes to mine. "You...You think this will help my condition?"

I nodded. "I believe it will."

She looked back and forth between me and the liquid, before placing her hands atop mine on the bowl. "Alright...but you're going to have to help me drink it...That liquid tastes bloody awful."

Without warning I pressed the bowl to her lips, forcing the liquid into her mouth. Her hands tightened on mine as she snorted into the bowl, causing some of it to dribble down her throat, but she didn't stop; she continued drinking until she'd drained the red liquid. Her breathing was heavy when I finally pulled the bowl away to place it on the nightstand, and she gripped one of my hands as she tried to get her breaths under control.

"What now?" I asked softly.

"We...wait." she breathed.

I was silent for a moment, before I reached out to grab the partially-crushed plant again.

"What are...you doing?"

"I'm going to rub it on your skin, just as you did Oliver." I answered, rubbing it on her right wrist.

"How is that going to help, James?" Thedore answered.

"It will seep into her skin, and into her bloodstream. When it reaches her heart it will pump all through her body." I paused my task for a moment, and turned to face Theodore. "Could...you give us a moment, please?"

Theodore furrowed his brows, before realization sank in. His cheeks turned a light shade of red, and he nodded, before exiting the room.

Chrissy's brows were furrowed as well when she looked at me. "What...are you going to do?"

"I'm going to rub this plant liquid all over your skin, just like what you did with Oliver."

"So...why did you have to send him out of the room?" she asked, innocently clueless.

I gave her a pointed look, and placed my hand, which was wet and red with the plant liquid, on her ankle, and massaged.

Her cheeks turned red after a moment, just as her brother's had. "Oh."

I couldn't help but smirk a small bit. "I like it when you blush."

She still looked confused, but as she gazed at me, became intrigued. "Oh?"

"Mhm." I nodded, scooting down to the end of the mattress so I could better massage the liquid into her ankles. "You look so...innocent." I began rubbing her feet with the liquid, which seemed to make my wife sink back a bit more against the pillows. I chuckled.

"I..." she started, "You do that well."

"What?"

"Massage...it feels wonderful."

I smiled gently at her, and moved to her other foot.

"Jamie?"

"Hm?" I asked, not taking my eyes from my work.

"What are you going to do in England?"

I met her gaze again. "Hm?" I hummed in a higher pitch.

"When we get to England, what are you going to do? You've told me you're resigning from the Royal Navy."

I swallowed lightly, sighed through my nose, and looked back down at my gently working hands. "I don't know."

Her foot slowly slid from my hands, and the mattress shifted as she slowly moved herself closer to me. Her small hands tilted my chin up so she could look up into my eyes. "Jamie, how are we going to support the baby? Where are we going to live?"

I pressed my forehead against hers, looking her directly in the eyes. "Don't worry, darling. I'll find a place for us to stay, and I'll find a way to support my family. We certainly won't be living out on the streets, if that's what you're afraid of."

She sighed, touching her nose to mine. "I don't know what I'm afraid of." she whispered.

My hands found their way to her shoulders, where I pushed them slowly beneath the fabric of her nightgown to rub the remaining liquid from my fingers onto her skin. "Don't be afraid. I will provide for us. We'll have a place to stay, food to eat, and money. Perhaps not so much money, but we'll still have a reasonable sum. We'll be able to take care of Melody, and I'll be able to help your condition." I paused to smile at her. "I'm going to take care of you."

She returned my smile, and placed a light kiss on my lips. "I don't have to worry?"

"Leave it to me." I assured. "Now then, let's finish getting this on you."

She took the plant from my hands. "Let me help."

**Okay, I know the ending of the chapter was a bit abrupt, but that's about all I could think of. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and there will be much more to come! There are only a few chapters left, but please review anyway! By the way, I want to do a sequel about Melody. What do you think? Please review! Thanks!**


	32. Strange All Around

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies; you know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

* * *

"What are you getting all dressed up for?"

I couldn't help the small smile that threatened and then took over my lips as I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't think I looked too dressed up, but apparently my wife did. I finished tying off my cravat and then surveyed myself. My crisp, white shirt was tucked neatly into my sky-blue breeches, my white stockings pulled taught over my calves and ankles, and my black buckle shoes had been shined nicely. After buttoning up my white waistcoat, leaving the top two buttons undone, I reached in the wardrobe for my frock coat that matched the color of my breeches. "I'm going to the fort today."

"Why?" she asked in a very child-like tone.

"I have matters to attend to, such as seeing that my prisoners are taken care of properly. When that is seen to, I can discuss my resignation with Alexander." I snatched my comb from next to the wash basin, and glanced at my wife in the mirror before running it through my cropped hair. "How do you feel today, dearest?"

She nodded slowly, watching my every move. "Better."

"Elaborate." I pressed.

She sighed. "Stronger. I feel stronger today. I think I can make it down the staircase without you having to carry me."

A soft chuckle sounded in my throat. "No, I'll still be doing that."

She sighed again, only a bit heavier. "But, Jamie! What if I _want _to go down the staircase by myself?"

I put my black-felt tricorn on as I walked to where she was perched on the end of our bed, and nuzzled her jaw. "You can't have everything you want. Children are spoiled that way, you know?" I partially jested.

Ah, that got a snort out of her. "I'll have you know that I am _not _a child, James Norrington."

I chuckled again, placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I know, pet. I believe you've proven that to me many times since I've gotten back from my voyage."

"I'm not a pet, either." she grumbled, acting as though she was accepting none of my caresses or kisses. "And none of your tactics are going to work." However, a small shiver gave her away when I kissed the side of her neck.

"Mhm." I smirked. "What would you have me call you, then?"

"Mrs. Norrington."

I pulled back a bit, eyeing her expression, and dared to venture to mocking her. "Oh, someone certainly is grumpy this morning. Not enough sleep, Mrs. Norrington?"

Her eyes narrowed. "That's your fault."

I chorttled. "Oh? I seem to recall you enjoying yourself."

She sighed out of frustration, her cool breath caressing my face, drawing me closer to hers...though she acted like she didn't notice. "Maybe. Maybe I just _want _to be grumpy."

"I can fix that." I murmured as I leaned close, my lips brushing her ear. She shivered. I took that as my cue, and nibbled her earlobe. "I can fix that very quickly."

She was still until I brushed the backs of my fingers against the top of her knee, pressing the cool, silky fabric of her cream-colored nightgown to her skin. She shuddered, placing her hands on my shoulders. "I...don't think I want to be grumpy anymore."

Ah ha! I pressed another kiss on her neck, smiling against her skin as I did so, knowing that I'd won. I began to trail a few kisses lower, when a knock sounded softly on my door.

"Sir?"

It was my turn to sigh. I pulled my face from the curve of my wife's neck to look over in the direction of the door and voice. "Yes, Jane?"

"Sir, there's someone here to see you."

"Well, who is it?" I asked with a trace of annoyance in my tone. My wife chuckled at this.

"I..." There was a pause. "It's Theodore Groves, sir; he says it's important."

I glanced at Chrissy, and then back at the door. "Tell him I'll be down momentarily...I'm still getting ready."

"Yes, sir."

When Jane's footsteps faded away, I fully faced my wife, my expression apologetic. "I'm sorry."

She smiled softly. "You were going to have to leave anyway, you just got...distracted."

Slowly, I smiled too. "It was a good distraction. We'll pick up when I get home, alright?" I reached up to cradle her chin in my palm. "I may be out for quite a bit, though. I have a lot of official business that I can't neglect anymore."

"Let me go with you." she offered hopefully.

I closed my eyes for a few moments. "I'm sorry, darling. This is official business, and you won't be interested in the least. Just stay home, relax, and then we'll do whatever you wish when I get back. And besides that," I murmured, eyeing her state of dress, "You're not properly dressed to be around my men, or in town, for that matter."

"But I can be, if you'll fetch Jane."

I sighed. "Darling-"

"Please?" she begged, her eyes becoming slightly wide and a bit more rounded. "I just got you back." she whispered. "Every time you go to the fort, Jamie, I don't see you all day...and sometimes you keep going back for several days in a row. I don't want to be away from you anymore."

I closed my eyes. She certainly had a way of making me feel awful about myself. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I stood to my full height. "Alright. I'll fetch Jane. However," I added sternly, "Oliver has to come with us. He may have to sit with you in my office for a short bit."

Her eyes brightened, and she used my shoulders as leverage to get to her feet. "Thank you, Jamie!" she smiled.

How could I not smile at her child-like behavior? I put my hands on her hips, and kissed her slowly, tenderly, for a few moments. "Be quick...Theodore is probably wondering what we're doing." I chuckled at the seemingly dazed expression on her face from the kiss, and waved my hand in front of her eyes. "Darling, you need to get ready."

"Alright," she said slowly, "But I need Jane to help me."

"I know, dearest. Pick a dress you want to wear while I fetch her."

With one more lingering kiss to her neck I was out the door, and walking briskly down the hallway, and then the staircase.

Theodore was waiting by the main doors, his hands clsped behind his back as he spoke to Oliver. I came to a stop just before them, and nodded. "Gentlemen." Cluttering from the kitchen told me Jane was helping with last night's dishes. "Jane!"

The cluttering softened, and then stopped completely, before she came around the corner drying her hands on her apron. "You summoned me, sir?"

"Ah, yes, Jane. Mrs. Norrington needs help getting dressed."

She curtsied. "Yes, sir."

"Is mum going?" Oliver asked from beside me.

"She is, and so are you."

He furrowed his brows playfully. "Am I now?"

I nodded with a small smile, and snatched the green bandana from his head. "Yes, and keep this off while we're in town; someone might mistake you for a pirate." I turned to Theodore, then, after stuffy the sweaty piece of cloth in the pocket of my frock coat. "What did you come for, Theodore?"

He clewared his throat, seeming a bit anxious. "A...strange ship has been spotted several leagues out from the island...a very familiar ship to the both of us."

When I began to ask about the ship in question, a small cough from the top of the staircase silence me. I turned in the direction of the small sound to see Jane helping Chrissy down the staircase. My wife was dressed simply in a pale blue cotton dress, the neckline showing a reasonable amount of cleavage, and the bottom hem hiding her ankles for propriaty sake. The dress fit her form nicely, and the color seemed to complement my own clothing. She caught my gaze when she was nearly half-way down, her eyes shining as she smiled. She didn't have to murmur a single word to me, but I knew that she was silently rejoicing that she was at least making it down the staircase with little help.

I smiled at this, and lightly took her hand when she reached the last step. "Are we ready?" I asked the others. I led the way to the carriage when I recieved nods, first helping my wife into the carriage before myself, and then took a seat beside her as Theodore and Oliver climbed in after us.

* * *

Port Royal seemed exceptionally quiet. For what reason, I didn't know. The normal chatter and sounds of work from the townsfolk was like a low hum in some parts of the town, or not there at all. The shouts and calls of sailors as they worked down at the docks, a sound that I'd become very familiar with, couldn't be heard. My brows furrowed at the strangeness of this as I looked out the window, trying to find a source, a reason as to why the small town had become so eerily silent. "Is today a holiday?" I asked for any of the other three persons to answer.

Theodore shook his head. "No, sir. It is the middle of June."

I looked back out the window again, taking in everything that seemed unfamiliar. The sky had become unusually dark, looking as though it would pour down a torrent at any given moment. When we got to the fort and I stepped out of the carriage, I realized there wasn't one gust of wind usually associated with a storm...not even a breeze. A soft hand being placed in my own brought my eyes from the sky and to Chrissy, whom I helped down out of the carriage and onto the dark cobblestones of the fort.

The four of us walked in silence to my office door, where I produced a key to get in and took in my surroundings once I was. Everything was just as I'd left it, however, it was a bit dim to the darkness produced by the storm clouds. My wife, slowly, decided to venture about the room once I'd lit a few candles, touching a few objects here and there, but not really disturbing anything. Oliver went to the large map that was on the wall before my desk, while Theodore and I simply lingered in the doorway.

"The matter at hand, James?" Theodore murmured.

"You mentioned a...strange ship, that the both of us are familiar with?" I said in an equally quiet tone, leading him to a corner.

"Aye." he nodded. "You'll have to see it, right away. I didn't think it was going to take me this long to bring you to the fort."

"Is it urgent?"

"It definately needs to be seen to as soon as possible."

I sighed. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier, Theodore?" I turned and looked at my wife and Oliver, who were still exploring my office. "Chrissy, I'll be back as quickly as I can; stay here with Oliver."

"Admiral," Theodore said as we walked briskly to the docks upon realizing there were marines near. It would have been very improper for a lieutenant to call his superior officer by his first name, "We'll have to take a rowboat to get to it...they didn't want to be seen."

My brows furrowed at this, but my stride never slowed. "For goodness sake, Lieutenant, what ship is it?" After a moment of pondering, I quickly added, "It isn't _The Black Pearl, _is it?"

"No, sir. It is a ship that both of us sailed on before-"

"Your boat, sir," A marine addressed me as we neared the shore, "She's ready, and I've been ordered to take you."

"Good man." I nodded as I climbed in.

The marine began rowing once Theodore was in, and at a fast pace at that. When I looked closer, I realized that marine's hands were shaking. His eyes, brown, were looking in all directions, and he seemed rather pale to have been working in the Caribbean for as long as I thought he had.

"You there," I called quietly, "What's your name?"

The marine looked up at me with a start, as though he'd been deeply lost in thought. "Sorry, sir?"

"Your name, man, what is it?"

"Stanly, sir."

"Mr. Stanly, are you feeling alright? You're looking a bit pale."

"Aye, sir. I'll be fine when I'm back on dry land."

It as about that time that we came around a bend of land that jutted out into the ocean, that I saw it. A large, looming figure docked near a partially hidden shore. _The Flying Dutchman._

I swallowed, but hid my emotions for the sake the marine. "Would that be the reason for your worries, Mr. Stanly?"

"Aye, sir."

Not far from the ship was a rowboat, and a short man standing in said boat. As we drew nearer, I found that I recognized the outline of the man, and my body and posture grew tense.

"Admiral Norrington." the man nodded.

I stood as well, and returned the gesture. "Pleasure to see you, Mr. Turner."

Though it had been a while since I'd seen William Turner, I could tell that his pirating days were beginning to take a toll on his body. His face seemed to be the palest of shades of turquoise, just faintly, and weather-beaten as though he'd spent too much time out while it was storming horribly. His gray, long-sleeved shirt, which was open nearly half-way down his front, revealed a horrid scar that seemed to curve in a half-circle on his chest. He appeared to also be scronier than he already had been when he'd lived in Port Royal, and the very, very faint color only seemed to add affect to his new size and seemingly old scars. The man looked like a corps, in my opinion. He was technically dead, after all.

He reached his hand out to shake mine. "I apologize for the location, but I didn't want the town to become panicked at the appearance of my ship, and, well, I'm not allowed to set foot on dry land for another nine years." With a slight smile, he added, "It's Captain Turner, now."

I shook his hand, which seemed clammy and cold , and became surprised at myself at the amount of tenseness that left my body at his friendly gesture. "My apologies, Captain. Excuse my bluntness, but what is your matter of business?"

He straightened up at the question, apparently happy that we'd finally gotten around to the subject; he did look quite uncomfortable, after all. "I'm afraid you have something of mine, Admiral."

My brows furrowed at this. "Have I?"

"Yes, Admiral. A Captain John Davis."

I felt my gaze harden, and a scowl pulled at my lips. "I'm afraid I can't hand a pirate over to a pirate." I bit out. "He's my prisoner to hang."

Turner's slightly cheerful expression faltered to serious one, and he allowed his hands to hang loosly at his sides. "I know it will be troublesome and dangerous to your commission, but-"

"There's more than just my commission that is at stake, Mr. Turner." I growled, thinking of how it could put my wife and child at stake, "I'm afraid I can't hand him over to you."

"If I may, Admiral?" Turner started, a bit of tenseness entering his own tone, "I have a proposition for you. You won't have to simply pass him to me."

"So how do you intend to get him?" I interrupted. He'd only been near me for a few moments, and already he was causing trouble! Trying to, anyway. "What do you need him for in the first place."

"He's much overdue for his appointment in _The Locker._ He escaped my ship when there was a bit of confusion in getting some of the souls in the brig, because some of them are difficult and refuse to be escorted to _The Locker. _He was one of those that refused, and when there was a brawl on the deck while trying to get some of those souls to the brig, he escaped. From what I've heard he's also been causing a lot of trouble, and I've come to get him and take him where he belongs."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "So, what is this proposition, if you don't intend for me to hand him over?"

Turner smiled. "Ah. Instead of giving him to me, you could simply allow for him to be 'snatched'"

"Snatched?" I asked, my brows furrowed.

"Aye, Admiral. I could arrange for a few of my men to come later today, preferably at night to snatch him. You'll just happen to be in the jail of the fort when they come to get him, some shots could be fired, and-"

"I don't like where this is going, Mr. Turner." I mumbled, my fingers finding their way to my temples.

"No, wait a moment, Admiral." Theodore smirked. "Some shots could be _falsely _fired, and while you are _wounded_, I could set out with a ship and handful of men." he paused and turned to Turner. "You can still make your ship go beneath the waves, yes?"

He nodded.

"Good. I could firea few cannon balls at _The Dutchman_, then later, when I write a report to the Admiralty, I could tell them the ship went down with Davis."

I looked back and forth between the grinning faces of Turner and Theodore, sighed, and put my hand out again. "Mr. Turner, you have an accord."

Turner nodded with a chuckle, and shook my hand vigorously. "You've nothing to worry about, Amdiral."

"I'm guessing I'll see your men tonight, then?"

Again, he nodded. "Aye. Good evening, Admiral."

With that, Turner turned and disappeared, only to reappear at the port side of his ship, waving. Nearly promptly after, the marine that had been sitting in our rowboat the entire time, fainted.

**LOL. I didn't think this chapter was going to be this long. I had intended to stop it at, "Pleasure to see you, Mr. Turner." But, I thought that would've just been mean. Hopefully you enjoyed it, even though I added William Turner(something I thought I'd never do in any of my stories, since he isn't one of my favorite characters. Don't get me wrong, I like Orlando Bloom, but Will, not as much). Thanks to _omgxiixluvxhc _for suggesting long ago that James bump into Will, which inspired this chapter! ALSO! THANK YOU EVERYONE THAT REVIEWED THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER! I WAS VERY HAPPY TO RECIEVE ALL OF THOSE LOVELY REVIEWS! PLEASE KEEP THAT UP! IT IS VERY MOTIVATIONAL! Please review! Thank you! I'll try to have the next chapter out soon!**


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